Circle
by Scifinerd92
Summary: It's the battle at the end of Harry's 6th year at Hogwarts and he gets chased into the Forbidden Forest by a certain werewolf. What does this lead to? And will Harry's life ever be the same again? SLASH, LEMONS
1. I Love It When They Run

**Egahds! What am I thinking?! I was looking through my old fics that I'd started (mainly drabbles) and came across this one...**

**I thought it was different to all my LM/HP's I've got going on so... I just wanted to get some opinions :)**

**So.. yeah, I hope you enjoy this FG/HP fic ^-^**

**x**

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I Love It When They Run

Fenrir was never one to eat his food politely. No, he had always played with it first. He would toy with it until it was beyond recognisable.

This was why he was circling a lonely Harry Potter. He'd never fully appreciated how...pretty Harry was. Yes he was a boy, but a very lithe, feline and delicate boy. He'd never realised, either, how good fear smelt on him; it was intoxicating, invigorating and delicious which was why he prolonged this moment.

Potter was in an open area of woodland while Fenrir moved between various trees that encircled the patch of grass Harry was on. Occasionally he would let out a rumbling growl when Harry was near him, which made the boy jump back from the side of the bushes. He looked quite worn out but that was understandable; he had chased Potter from the frantic fights in the castle into the woods where they could not be heard. Harry had tried to make an escape from one of the other exits but Fenrir was too fast – he had thick, muscular legs that outran Harry's by an embarrassing amount.

So now, all Potter was doing was waiting, edging round the grassy circle looking for a way out.

_The boy won't succeed,_ thought Fenrir. _I would not let something this beautiful out of my sight._

Finally, he decided to speak.

"Are you tired of playing this game, little kitten?" he growled. "Do you want to see what's next?"

"Just stop playing and come and fight me you coward!" the boy said clearly. If Fenrir couldn't smell the fear, he could definitely hear it in the slight wobble of his voice.

"You think you could fight me?" Fenrir remarked with a deep chuckle. "Magic only gets you so far, Potter."

"Then let's see how far I get!"

Fenrir was glad his little playmate was so fiery and fierce. It made it all the more fun.

Waiting until the boy's back was turned, Fenrir leapt out and ran stealthily towards Harry knocking him to the floor and turning him round on his back.

"That wasn't too hard," Fenrir breathed into the boy's face.

"Get off me!" Harry shrieked, trying to buck the great weight off him. The putrid breath of the werewolf was making him retch.

Fenrir sat back on his haunches, making sure to still pin Harry down.

"I don't think I will, my kitten," the werewolf murmured, scraping a particularly grimy fingernail across Harry's cheek. Harry shuddered at the disgusting touch and pushed even harder against the rock-solid chest.

Getting annoyed at Harry's pointless shoves, he gripped the two wrists and yanked them forwards making the boy sit up sharply. Harry's head was inches from Fenrir's and now he couldn't control the panicky breaths that were coming out of his mouth.

"Calm down, my little lamb," Fenrir said, a curl playing on his lips. "I just want to taste you."

"Wha-?" But Fenrir had shoved his violent, dirty mouth upon Harry's delicate, soft lips and was forcing his tongue through. However, Fenrir was not expecting the boy to snap his teeth down on his dominant tongue. Pulling out of Potter's mouth he felt several droplets of blood fall from his mouth.

"You're a fighter, aren't you?" he asked huskily.

Potter only glared which made Fenrir smirk.

"Yes... but you have to be, don't you, to lead all those people back there? To protect them and keep them safe." At this Harry's glower faltered.

"What are you on about?" the boy snapped.

Fenrir moved one of his hands to Harry's head and pulled it to the side so the youthful neck was exposed to him.

"What if," he whispered in the boy's ear, "their leader was something they feared? What if," he sniffed the throbbing jugular vein, "he was turned into something so frightful they'd rather strive through this war on their own, than trust a monster?"

"NO!" Potter shouted. "GET OFF ME!"

The boy tried to pull his head out of Fenrir's strong grip but got nowhere.

"Your fear is intoxicating, my petite," Fenrir said, the smell so arousing he found himself on top of Harry once again. Never before had fear smelt so _damn good_. This smell was unearthly, impossible...

And then, Harry did something that put everything into position.

As Fenrir leered over the boy's face, Harry turned his head to the side and stopped struggling; the sign of submitting.

Harry was submitting to him, to Fenrir, to... his alpha?

The thought made itself so obvious in Fenrir's mind that he was surprised it had taken him so long to figure it out. Everything was making sense: the strong pull Fenrir had to Potter that had made him drive the boy away from everyone else; the strong, incomprehensible smell of fear that was so diverse to anything Fenrir had smelt before; and the submitting pose Harry was still in... it was all so clear.

Harry was his mate.

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**OW! Cliche or what? Sorry, but that really is the only way for a FG/HP fic to work... unless there are any other ideas in your head? **

**XD**

**Thanks for taking your time and reading this (rather quick and pointless) bit of slash :P**

**lol**

**x**


	2. I Love Marking My Prey

Sooo ... I had inspiration to continue!

**Still don't really have a storyline but hopefully it'll go _somewhere_ :P**

**Thank you all so so soo much for your reviews for my first chapter!! :D I never thought this would be so popular, so thank you very very much :)**

**I also decided to use the phrase "mon petite" which was suggested by BonneNuit :) Kudos to her for that lovely lil bit of French ;)**

**Oh, Fenrir says thanks to. He really wanted me to continue ;)**

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I Love Marking My Prey

Harry was his mate? He couldn't be! All Fenrir's life he'd presumed that he was to live alone... He'd never found a pack, nor had he found someone to live with, and with that much loneliness in his life he'd gotten used to solitude. He was unsure whether he was happy that Harry was his mate or not. After all, he wasn't one for relationships or family, but he wasn't one to question the way of the wolf, either.

He decided to check to see for definite if this boy was his.

As the dangerous werewolf leaned in towards him, Harry flinched and turned away, not wanting to have the disgusting mouth against his again. So as not to provoke the man on top of him, he kept very still.

However, the man stiffened and Harry hesitantly looked up to find Greyback staring at him intently. Then, without any warning, he nuzzled his nose all around Harry's body, taking in deep breaths.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Harry asked, his voice quavering as Fenrir pressed his nose to the crook of Harry's neck. However, he received no answer.

After at least thirty seconds of deep, heavy sniffs, the werewolf stopped and leaned up with a horrific and frightening expression.

"Well, well, well," he said huskily. "This is a surprise."

Harry glared.

"What is?" he spat.

"It turns out, oh Boy Who Lived, that you're my mate," Fenrir said as he carded his grimy fingers through Harry's tousled hair.

"Your what?" Harry was sure he'd heard correctly, but he highly doubted he was this monster's 'mate'.

"You're my mate," Fenrir repeated. "Do you know what that entails?"

Harry said nothing but continued his glare.

"I'll explain, then. Every wolf – whether animal or werewolf – has a mate, somewhere out there. You happen to be mine." Harry couldn't help but notice how bored Fenrir looked. "Therefore, we are destined to be together, just as soon as you get turned."

"What?" Harry shrieked. "I don't care if we're 'destined' to be together; I'm not turning into a werewolf!"

Fenrir restrained his snarl; he was as surprised at this as Harry was, but obviously he was taking it better than the boy.

"It's not like we have much of a say in this," Fenrir said, his head directly over Harry's. "I don't want a mate; I like the solitude of life."

"Then why were you acting so lovey-dovey earlier?" Harry growled.

"Because," Fenrir whispered, "you were just going to be a quick bit of fun, a guilty pleasure, a play thing."

Harry's eyes widened slightly.

"But it turns out you're more than that. I need you, and you – in time – will realise you need me."

"I haven't needed you yet, so I doubt I'll need you in the future," Harry hissed, feeling, not so much scared anymore, but frustrated.

"That is because our paths haven't crossed up 'til now, mon petite," Fenrir murmured. "But once I mark you, you'll need me like a drug."

"Mark me?" Harry croaked, the fear returning.

"Just think," Fenrir purred into Harry's ear, "being like me isn't all that bad. No more pressure on you to defeat the Dark Lord... think of all that freedom, boy."

For a moment Harry found himself imagining life without the constant reminder that his life will, one way or another, involve murder, and how he would never be free until Voldemort died.

"Are you tempted?" Fenrir breathed.

Harry wanted to say no, to object, and to get as far away from this creature as possible. But, somewhere inside him, he wanted to agree, to let Fenrir do what needed to be done.

He said nothing as he tried to decide what he wanted.

"Let me choose for you," Fenrir murmured.

Slowly, Fenrir leant in to Harry's neck where he placed his mouth. He wouldn't turn Harry yet but he would certainly give him something to remind him that they would be together again.

He sucked harshly on the boy's delicate neck, making sure to leave a bruising kiss mark. He bit down softly, not enough to turn Harry, but enough to draw blood.

"St-stop," Harry groaned weakly. "Please..."

"This is just to remind you that we _will_ be together," Fenrir mumbled against the flesh he'd sucked on.

He retreated away from Potter and looked down at his mate, whose eyes looked slightly hazy and his mouth was slightly ajar.

Before he could play with his new-found play mate, he heard footsteps in the forest.

"Harry?"

"Harry? Are you there?"

Greyback looked back at Harry who seemed to have fallen unconscious. He placed a quick kiss on Harry's half-open lips and stood up.

"I'll see you soon, my little lamb." And he ran off into the opposite direction of the footsteps.

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"Harry?" Hermione cried frantically.

"Harry? Are you there?" Ron called, thinking he'd seen some movement up ahead. "Hermione, I think I saw someone over there," he whispered.

"Let's go," she said, tightening her grip on her wand.

Moving quietly and cautiously through the Forbidden Forest, they moved to the clearing Ron had pointed to.

"Oh my gosh!" Hermione said as she spotted her best friend lying in the middle of the forest clearing.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, and they both made their way over to him.

"Ron, wh-what's that?" Hermione whispered, pointing a trembling finger to Harry's neck which had a large purple bruise and was slowly oozing blood.

Ron swallowed and looked away. He was pretty sure what sort of creature made that mark but he didn't want to frighten Hermione anymore than necessary.

"I... I don't know, lets call for help," he said flatly. He stood up and shot red sparks into the air.

Within seconds, Remus Lupin and Mad Eye Moody had appeared in the clearing where the three teenagers were.

"What's going on here?" Moody asked gruffly, stomping over to where Ron and Hermione knelt over Harry.

"It's Harry, he... he's unconscious," Hermione said trying not to cry.

"What's wrong with him?" Remus asked as he knelt beside Hermione and comforted her.

"That," Ron said in disgust as he pointed to the mark on his friend's neck.

Remus froze as he looked at the bruising wound.

"No," he whispered, causing Moody and Hermione to both ask, "What?"

"That's... that injury is..." He swallowed, not able to continue. "I'll tell you later, let's get back to the castle."

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**So there's chapter 2 **

**:O**

**Thank you all again (:**


	3. The Meaning of the Mark

**Chapter Three :)**

**Thank you all so so so so so so much for the support and kind words in your reviews :) And thanks to everyone who has this story on alert!! :D**

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The Meaning of the Mark

The walk back to the castle seemed to take forever. All Remus could think about was Harry and the fact that he'd been marked and labelled as a werewolf's... _mate_. He cringed at the word.

"Remus?" a soft voice asked. "Are you okay?"

It was Hermione.

"I'm fine," he said with a weak smile.

Hermione smiled back warmly and turned her attention to her unconscious friend. Harry was lying on a stretcher which was being levitated by Moody. His arms dangled freely over the sides and Hermione took one of his hands in her own.

"You'll be alright," she whispered.

* * *

_Harry ran as fast as his human legs would carry him, but looking over his shoulder he saw the wolf who was chasing him closing in. He pumped his legs faster but it didn't seem to do him any good. Even though the possibility of outrunning a werewolf was slim, he found he didn't want to stop; running made the inevitability of getting caught seem less real._

_Suddenly a heavy weight had slammed into him, knocking him to the ground._

"_Hello, mon petite," whispered a familiar voice in his ear. "I've come to collect you."_

_He felt a large pair of canines scratching at his neck as he tried to push himself up. Then, without warning, they punctured the skin, causing blood to flow freely..._

He screamed and thrashed about, trying to entangle himself from the beast on top of him, when suddenly he felt his arms being held down.

"Harry!" A voice cried.

"Remus, he's waking up!" said another.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he found himself looking up at a white ceiling. He pulled his arms away from the person who was holding them and immediately felt his neck.

He relaxed slightly as he felt the absence of blood that he thought would be running down his neck. What a horribly graphic dream.

Taking deep breaths he pushed himself up to find four blurry figures at the end of the bed he was in.

"Awake at last," said a gruff voice which Harry recognised to belong to Alastor Moody.

"How are you feeling?" came Hermione's voice as she handed him his glasses.

Shakily he put them on and said, "Fine. How's everyone else?" He was referring, of course, to the battle which had been taking place before he fell unconscious.

"Honestly, mate, you need to think about yourself a lot more," Ron said grinning. "But everyone's fine... apart from... apart from Dumbledore."

And then it all came back to him. He'd been with Dumbledore at the top of the Astronomy tower when Snape had cast the unforgivable killing curse.

"Snape," Harry growled out.

"What?!" said everyone in his presence.

"Snape killed Dumbledore."

Remus was the first to speak.

"Harry, I think you're confused. You've been through a great ordeal and –"

"No," he said shortly. "I know what I saw."

There was a long silence before Ron spoke up.

"It always was Snape, wasn't it?" he said with a wavering smile.

"Anyway, Potter," Moody said loudly. "We need to discuss you."

"Me?" he asked, confused. "Why?"

"Because of that thing on your neck!" the old Auror said.

"What thing?" Harry asked nervously as, once again, he felt his neck. As he ran his hands up and down his neckline, he felt a patch of skin that was rougher than the rest of his usually smooth neck.

"Harry, what do you remember?" Remus asked leaning forwards.

Harry looked around at the four people clustered round his bed and saw Ron and Hermione exchange a nervous glance; he narrowed his eyes.

"I... I think..." He closed his eyes trying to remember. A number of images flashed through his mind: running from the battle, a forest, a clearing, a sense of fear, and a fierce man leaning over his head. But it wasn't a man, Harry knew. It was a... a...

"Werewolf," he whispered. His dream seemed to make more sense now.

Remus grimaced, Moody – for once – looked scared, Ron looked knowing and Hermione had her hands to her mouth in shock.

"Harry, you need to tell us everything that happened," Remus said seriously, moving to sit next to Harry on his bed. "I think I know how that mark got there, but... I need to hear from _you_ what happened."

Harry looked into Remus' saddened eyes and nodded.

"I can remember the Forbidden Forest, and... being shoved to the ground by..." Harry racked his brains and tried to recall what the man/werewolf looked like. He scrunched his eyes up tight and, all of a sudden, a frightening, domineering face presented itself in his minds eye. "By Fenrir Greyback."

Remus gasped, Moody swore under his breath, Hermione shook her head and Ron exclaimed, "No!"

The night's events came back to Harry, all in very quick succession.

"I was battling Yaxley – a Death Eater," he said to his audience's clueless faces. "I stunned him and was going to try and find you guys when I heard a growl behind me." Harry shivered as he recalled the fear that had coursed through him. "He... he chased me into the forest and... and kept saying strange things."

Everyone was silent, not wanting to interrupt Harry's story, now that he had remembered it.

"He kept calling me, 'mon petite' and 'my little lamb'."

Remus shuddered at the mention of the pet names.

Harry took a deep breath before saying, "And then he said I was his 'mate'."

Remus froze. So he was right about that sickening mark on Harry's neck.

"He shoved me to the ground and asked me if I wanted to be like him, to change into a werewolf."

When Harry didn't continue, Remus prompted him.

"What happened, Harry? What did you say?"

Harry's gaze met Remus' and he said, bravely and honestly, "I didn't say anything. I didn't object and I didn't agree." Harry hit his head with the heel of his hand in frustration. "What was I thinking? Why didn't I say no?"

"Harry, it's not your fault; I know Fenrir Greyback – he bit me," Remus said coldly.

"What?!" Ron, Hermione and Harry cried out.

"He bit me when I was eight years old, but I remember it as though it were yesterday." Remus shivered and continued. "I remember his way of talking, the way he made it sound like a good thing to be turned into a werewolf. Harry, I didn't object either. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm so sorry, Remus," Harry said hoarsely.

"It's fine," he said, waving a hand impatiently. "But that mark he left you, Harry... I know what it means."

Harry looked at him weakly.

"Tell me."

Remus moved closer to Harry and sighed.

"As you've probably guessed, it's not going to be good. You may be wondering why he left you in the forest." Harry nodded slowly. "That mark he left on your neck means that he will come back to... well, to claim you. Tonight was not a full moon so he wasn't allowed to take you and aver you as his mate."

Harry paled dramatically and he tried to digest what his father's friend had just told him.

"So... the next full moon I'm screwed," Harry said, trying to lighten the situation.

It didn't work.

"I don't know what to say, Harry," Remus said desperately. "I'm so sorry."

"Now wait one second, Lupin," Moody said. "You said that beast will take Potter at the next full moon. Are you suggesting that we're not going to try and stop it? If Potter remains in Hogwarts he'll be under the best protection we could offer him!"

"You're forgetting one thing," Remus said quietly. "This place was safest when Dumbledore was alive. The wards he put up were the strongest anyone could hope for. With him gone, the wards we put up won't be nearly strong enough to hold the pull a wolf has to its mate."

Moody looked like he wanted to argue but couldn't think of a counter-argument so left it.

"So are you saying," Harry started slowly, "that Greyback's going to take me while I'm in school?"

Remus shrugged. "Possibly, yes. He'll do whatever it takes."

A shrill _ahem_ startled Harry, Ron, Hermione, Remus and Alastor out of their thoughts. They looked up to find Madame Pomfrey with folded arms, tapping her foot impatiently.

"I'm sorry to say that Mr Potter has been through quite an ordeal. One person may remain behind but the rest of you must go."

Harry looked at Lupin.

"Will you stay?" He needed someone with him who could answer his questions.

"Of course I will," Remus said, squeezing Harry's hand.

"Bye, Harry," Hermione said with a forced smile, giving her friend a kiss on his forehead.

"See you, mate," Ron said with a nod, and he left with Hermione.

"I'll see you soon, Potter," Moody said gruffly, and he limped out of the hospital wing.

Once Harry was left alone with Lupin, he asked his next question.

"What do I do when he comes for me?" He couldn't stop his voice from breaking.

"I don't think there's anything you can do, Harry," Remus said, the words causing him pain.

"I thought you'd say that," Harry said as he lay back down in his bed. "What side-effects are there to this mark, then?"

"I believe it will start to tingle at first, then sting, followed by throbbing as the full moon approaches," Lupin said, his head in his hands. "Why couldn't I have been there for you?" he growled out.

Harry shot up in bed.

"What are you talking about?" Harry said. "Don't you _dare_ blame yourself for this!"

"But Harry –"

"I don't want to hear it!" Harry snapped. "This is no one's fault."

Remus looked up at his best friend's son and ran a hand through his hair.

"I still can't get over how much like you're mother you are," he said softly.

Harry smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I doubt I'll be like her when Fenrir comes for me."

"No!" Remus snarled, causing Harry to jump. "Nothing can take her away from you. Or James for that matter."

Harry stared at Remus with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry," Remus said after seeing the shock on Harry's face. "I'm just so angry for you."

"Don't worry," Harry said. "Go and get some food, I'll try and get some sleep."

Remus nodded and clasped Harry's hand before leaving.

Harry lay his head back down on his pillow and tried to get some sleep, ignoring the tickling feeling on his neck.

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***hugs reviewers***


	4. Dreaming

**Here's chapter 4 :)**

**Sorry for the wait, but I got a bit stuck for ideas on this one**

**I'd love to say thank you to all the reviews and readers, and an even bigger thank you to xdreamlessxvoyeurx for being my beta :D**

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Dreaming

Harry woke up screaming again.

It had been this way for the past two days, ever since his encounter with Fenrir Greyback in the Forbidden Forest. The last two nights he hadn't been able to have a peaceful night's sleep. He'd wake up every other hour or so after having horribly bloody, graphic dreams of the werewolf, who would, eventually, come and claim his prize.

This mornings dream, however, had been completely different from the other ones, where he had just been running away from the beast. This morning it had gone further than the bite.

_Again, he felt a large pair of canines scratching at his neck as he tried to push himself up. Again, they punctured the skin, causing his_ _blood to flow freely down his neck. He writhed and groaned as the pain became ever more blinding. _

_Suddenly, the next thing he knew he was no longer bleeding or in pain, but curled up next to something very soft and comfy, feeling utterly contented. As he took in his surroundings, he realised that his body was not that of a human, but that of a wolf! He was a sleek, black wolf, curled up next to what appeared to be another wolf, this one silver-haired and much, much larger who seemed to be sleeping. Harry moved to get away but immediately the other wolf opened it's eyes and fixed a glare on Harry, who had frozen at the gaze. After several long moments of staring into the amber eyes, Harry found himself lowering his wolf body to the foresty floor. He didn't know what made him kneel before the commanding_ _silver wolf but he didn't want to find out what would happen if he didn't. _

_Then, slowly and assertively, the huge wolf padded over to Harry's genuflecting_ _form. _

_It nuzzled its nose under Harry's chin, forcing Harry's green eyes to look up into the amber ones. __It gave a low rumbling noise and bared its fangs, but, somehow, Harry understood what it meant; mine._

He didn't know why he was screaming – the last bit of his dream wasn't even scary, but thinking back, the amber eyes seemed to have been staring so intently that Harry found that, when he blinked, the golden orbs were still imprinted on his retinas.

Vaguely, he heard whispered voices coming from outside his bed hangings.

"...screaming for the last two mornings! And nights!" came the hushed voice of Seamus Finnegan. "What if it doesn't stop?"

"Do you think we should cast silencing charms when he goes to sleep?" said Dean Thomas. "I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind."

"Or he _does_ mind and goes big-bad-wolf on us all."

Harry sat up in bed and listened, curious to hear what his roommates knew.

"Shut up! You don't know that, remember?" hissed Ron, and Harry felt his heart ache. Ron had told them what had happened? Even after he'd spoken to Professor McGonagall who had sworn that no one would find out?

"Sorry, but this is risky," Seamus continued. "Anyway, even without the screaming I wouldn't be able to sleep because I'm too nervous to be sleeping in the same room as a bloody werewolf!"

"I'm not a werewolf," Harry said quietly, but because he hadn't whispered it, it was louder than the rest of his roommate's hushed voices. He pulled open the curtains that were drawn round his bed.

"Harry!" Ron said in a very high-pitched voice.

Harry smiled dully. He wasn't so much annoyed at Dean and Seamus; anyone would be edgy if they were sharing their room with a werewolf's mate. No, his anger was vexed at Ron. He'd exposed Harry's horrific secret after been given strict instructions not to by McGonagall.

"Morning," he said coldly. He grabbed his clothes and made for the shower, but was stopped when Ron grabbed his arm.

"Harry, I'm sorry," he said desperately. "I didn't want to tell but I'm sure they would have guessed it anyway!"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "How?"

"Well... you kind of... sort of..." Ron rubbed his neck nervously. "You mention _his_ name in your sleep... and him being a wanted Death Eater as well as a werewolf... it's just hard to pass it off as dreams about You Know Who still."

Harry nodded stiffly. He wanted to avoid another falling out with Ron; the argument in his forth year with his best friend and the awkward silence that had followed had been the worst period of his time at Hogwarts. So, not wanting to risk the fight that would surely follow if Harry lost his temper, he merely nodded and left to wash.

Standing under the hot jet of water, Harry subconsciously moved his hand up to his neck where he gingerly touched the rough patch of skin. How could one little mark mean so much?

_I could say the same thing for the scar on my forehead, too,_ he thought, smiling to himself bitterly.

After what had to have been twenty minutes standing under the hot water, Harry eventually dried off and left for the Great Hall. The Heads of Houses had decided that – even though Albus Dumbledore was dead – they should continue their duty of protecting the students, so lessons would still continue fot the last month. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts of his latest dream, however, that he didn't watch where he was going and bumped into something.

"Watch it, Potter," snarled a familiar voice.

Correction: some_one._

"Sorry," he muttered. He looked up to find Draco Malfoy sneering down at him; great, just what he needed.

"Going somewhere without your fan club, Potter?" Malfoy drawled.

Harry snorted.

"That's rich of you," he scoffed. "I'm surprised you've dared to venture out on your own without your body guards."

The two boys glared at each other before Draco's eyes drifted down to Harry's neck. He sneered.

"Did Weasley leave you a present?" he scorned. "The slutty look suits you, Potter."

Without thinking Harry pulled out his wand and aimed it at Draco's chest. He didn't know why, but he was extremely touchy about his... about that thing on his neck.

"Touched a nerve, have I?" Draco asked slyly.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry growled. "You don't know anything!"

"What is going on here?" came a shrill voice. Harry and Draco looked up to see Professor McGonagall striding down the stairs towards them. Draco groaned and Harry hurriedly shoved his wand away.

"Well?" she snapped.

"Potter threatened me, Professor," Draco said innocently, and Harry rolled his eyes at Draco's obvious act.

"Is that true, Potter?"

"Yes, but only because he..." Harry trailed off, realising how petty he would sound.

"Because he _what_?" she asked impatiently.

"Nothing," he grumbled.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," she said with a sigh. "Mr Malfoy, off you go; I want a word with Mr Potter."

"Yes, Miss," he said through a smirk and headed down the stairs to the dungeons.

Harry looked into his professor's eyes and expected to find anger and disappointment. However, he was met with a gaze full of pity and sadness.

"Remus told me we could expect mood changes from you," she said quietly. Harry opened his mouth to question her some more but she continued. "That mark has more meaning than we thought."

Harry swallowed heavily; he wasn't sure he wanted to hear any more.

"After breakfast come to my office, Harry. Remus wants a word."

He watched her leave, knowing that there was something else she had wanted to say to him.

_It must be bad_, he thought. _She never calls me 'Harry'._

After a heavy sigh, he made his way into the Great Hall and tried to catch a glimpse of Ron and Hermione. However, after a lot of searching he decided that they weren't there, so he went to find a seat on his own.

"Alright, Harry?" Seamus asked nervously as Harry walked past him.

"Fine," he said shortly without stopping. At last he found a seat at the very end of the table where no one was around. He slumped onto the bench, slightly relieved he was on his own, and rubbed his neck; it had been tingling all morning. Not feeling particularly hungry, he let his thoughts drift...

_Is the fact that I'm on my own down to the sordid mark on my neck? Is that what's making me so angry and irritable?_

He thought about going to find Hermione and Ron, wherever they were, but decided against it after he realised he wouldn't be able to stand Ron's apologies, or Hermione's soothing yet patronising tones.

Thinking about it, he didn't really want to talk to anyone; this small amount of solitude seemed like a blessing.


	5. I Miss Naivety

**Yes, I changed the name of this fic :) **

**The title for this story didn't suit the genre so I changed it to Circle. Why you ask? Because I'm basing this story on Flyleaf's song called Circle. The lyrics sum up this story if you want a spoiler ;)**

**Big thanks to my beta again! I had a writers block and couldn't phrase my words right :( **

**But she helped :)**

* * *

Chapter Five - I Miss Naivety

Harry stayed in the Great Hall for as long as possible, not wanting to leave to see his professor.

However, before he knew it, students were slowly disappearing from the hall, leaving Harry with no choice but to exit with them.

He watched as most of them left to go outside, and felt a strange longing to be outdoors too... the sunlight looked _so_ inviting as it lit up the grounds and lake. However, he snapped out of it when he realised he had to meet his Head of House. So, despondently, he made his way up the stairs to the seventh floor where Professor McGonagall's office was.

Just before knocking, he faltered, taking a few moments of control before his life was plunged into chaos… again. He savoured every bit of naivety he had for a few seconds or so before rapping his knuckles on the wooden door.

"Come in."

Hesitantly, he pushed the door open and peered round the corner. He received quite a shock at the number of people who were gathered there; Minerva McGonagall, obviously, but she was joined by Hermione, Ron, Remus, and Moody.

"Morning, Potter," said Mad-Eye gruffly.

Ron attempted a smile, but it wavered as Harry shot him a cold look. Hermione gave Harry a little wave while Remus sat very still on a chair, leaning forwards pensively.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, shutting the door behind him.

"Well, you see, we've discovered – or should I say, Miss Granger discovered – some more information on werewolf mates."

Harry smiled fondly at Hermione; he envied her ability to find information, even on the obscurest of things.

"Harry, come and take a seat," Remus said, kicking a chair out for Harry to sit on. Harry dubiously walked over to it before sitting down stiffly.

For a moment no one said anything; they all stared at Harry with small, supportive smiles on their faces. Even Moody attempted a smile – though on his scarred face it looked more like a grimace.

After a number of long, painful seconds, Harry spoke up.

"Well? What did you want to talk to me about?"

Lupin was the first to speak.

"Well..." His eyes flickered over to Hermione for a few seconds before continuing. "We found some more information on that mark on your neck." Harry's hand immediately went up to touch it, suddenly feeling very paranoid and exposed.

"You remember when I told you about the side-effects? The tingling, stinging and throbbing?" Remus asked hoarsely, and Harry nodded. "There are several more than just those three."

Harry swallowed; here was where his life would undoubtedly – if possible – become even more confusing.

"What are they?" he asked, not wanting to feel the nervousness or anxiousness anymore.

Remus grimaced and rubbed his eyes wearily.

"I can tell him, if you want, Remus?" Hermione asked shyly.

Lupin nodded and seemed to hide under his tangled, grey-streaked hair.

Hermione conjured herself up a chair and sat in it so she was opposite Harry.

"The side-effects aren't pleasant, Harry," she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "Basically, what will happen is that... well, during the night you'll become even more restless than you are now." Harry sent Ron another glare; he'd obviously told Hermione about his screaming. "Also, you'll want to... um... isolate yourself. You're mood will become extremely unpredictable and you'll get protective of the mark on your neck. Furthermore –"

"Wait..." Harry said before Hermione could continue. "What do you mean 'protective' of it?"

"Well, you'll feel anger towards anyone who insults it."

"Why?"

Hermione shifted and glanced around, as if hoping someone else was going to say it. Eventually she sighed and turned her gaze on Harry again.

"It's... well it's because of Greyback," she said hurriedly. "He gave you it, he's your mate, he's also your so-called alpha, and you subconsciously respect that. You don't want anyone to offend that mark because, in doing so, they will be affecting him, and because he is your mate, it offends you, therefore causing you to act awfully touchy and angry."

Harry could have sworn he felt his brain throb from all the information it was trying to digest.

"Don't ask me how all that happens in one little mark," she added. "I find it rather enigmatic, too."

Harry leaned back in his chair.

"Huh," he said indifferently. He could sense everyone else in the room exchanging worried glances at his passiveness, but he ignored it.

"Um... Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively. "There was one more thing..."

Harry nodded, his eyes unfocused.

"This one is the most dangerous side-effect," she said, her voice firmer than before. "You'll feel an urge to find Greyback. It will feel like the yearning for a drug, a craving for something good and addictive." She leant forwards and grabbed his hand. "Harry, you can't let that take over."

But Harry wasn't listening; at the word 'drug', his mind had gone somewhere else...

"_Once I mark you, you'll need me like a drug..."_

Fenrir's voice echoed in his head, and it seemed to drown out all other sounds.

"Harry!" came Remus' voice. "Harry, listen to me!"

"But why?" Harry asked in a small voice as he came back to the present. He looked into Remus' brown eyes. "I'm not even a wolf! How can I be his mate?"

Remus shuffled on his seat.

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice that tiny flaw," he admitted. "I suppose I underestimated you." He smiled weakly before continuing. "The fact that you're not a wolf won't stop him, Harry. In fact, most mates are found before they are turned."

"So it's true then," Harry said monotonously. "I will be turned. It's inevitable."

Remus said nothing, but gave a small jerk of his head that Harry took to be a nod.

"Right." He stood up, not sure what he wanted to do.

"Harry, promise me one thing," Remus pleaded, grabbing Harry's arm. "Do _not_ isolate yourself. That can only lead to the yearning for Fenrir, and we want to prolong that for as long as possible."

Harry nodded, his face stony.

"Now then, Potter," McGonagall said briskly. "I want you to go with your friends, relax round the lake maybe. Use the weekend to unwind and have fun – that ought to help."

"Yes, Professor."

"C'mon, mate," Ron said, his voice strained. "Let's find a sunny spot outside."

He moved closer to Harry but Harry flinched, still furious at his so-called friend for telling others his shameful secret.

"Hermione, can I have a quick word? Outside?" Harry asked, ignoring the confused looks from McGonagall and Remus.

"Um, yes, of course," she said looking quite bemused.

He took her arm and led her towards the door. Once outside the office, he slumped against the wall and closed his eyes.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked, standing in front of him.

"Ron," he said, eyes still shut wearily.

"Ron?" she repeated. "What do you me–"

"He told," Harry said simply as his eyes opened. He pushed himself off the wall and started pacing, trying to walk his anger out. "He told Seamus and Dean about the thing on my neck, as well as what happened with Greyback."

Hermione's hands flew to her mouth as she let out a gasp.

"He didn't! How could he?"

Harry chuckled bitterly.

"I don't know, but I needed to tell someone... I just feel so angry at him at the moment! What if Seamus or Dean tell someone?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"I... I don't know what to say; I would suggest that you try and forgive him, but I know that would be hard for you."

Harry shrugged and, suddenly overcome with so many emotions, felt his eyes sting and a tear ran down his cheek.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed, rushing over to her friend and giving him a tight hug.

"Hermione, I'm fine," Harry mumbled, but he didn't push her away. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and took pleasure in the comforting embrace.

"HOW COULD YOU?!" shrieked a voice from inside the office, startling Hermione and Harry out of their peaceful state.

"What-?" Hermione asked, but was interrupted by another voice.

"What were you thinking?!" shouted Professor McGonagall.

"Idiot boy!" Moody roared.

Harry went back inside with Hermione, who was clinging to his arm. There he found Lupin, McGonagall and Moody all sending daggers at a red-eared Ron.

"Ron?" Hermione asked. "What happened?"

Ron looked up at Harry with a shameful expression.

"Well, they... they asked if I knew what you might... might be talking about... I guessed that you were telling Hermione about what I did?"

Harry nodded stiffly.

"Yeah, thought so," he said, his tone flat. "So... I, y'know, told them what I did."

"You idiot boy, Weasley!" snarled Mad-Eye.

"Ron, how could you? Harry's your best friend!" Remus spat, looking mad.

"I'm sorry!" he said, his voice breaking. "I didn't want to, but I couldn't cope with the questions Seamus and Dean were asking me!"

Harry looked at Ron's expression and saw that he, like Harry, looked as though he was going to cry.

"Leave it," Harry said suddenly, all eyes turning to him.

He didn't know why he stopped them; he thought it would be satisfying seeing Ron getting told how traitorous he had acted, but after seeing his best friend looking so ashamed and regretful, Harry found he didn't care what Ron had done.

"Just leave it. Remus, you said so yourself; I can't isolate myself and I can't afford to lose any friends." He paused and drew a shaky breath. "I need to forgive him if I want to live normally for the next few days, weeks... however long it is until the full moon."

*F-H*

Fenrir prowled around the outskirts of the grounds that held his mate, cursing his stupidity for going past the school's new Wards. Why did he leave after marking the boy? _Why_?

_At least the full moon is only four days away, _he thought to himself. _Then those wards won't be able to stop me._


	6. Where It All Started

**Chapter Six**

Where It All Started

_Wow, this is awkward,_ Harry thought to himself. He was sitting by the lake with Ron and Hermione, trying to ignore the tension that filled the air like a Dementor's presence.

"Lovely day isn't it?" Hermione asked, her voice slightly wobbly and high. For the entirety of the time they had been sat here, she kept finding something to say to eliminate the uncomfortable silence.

Harry nodded and Ron mumbled in agreement.

There was a small silence before another conversation starter was asked.

"S-so what lessons do you two have tomorrow?" she said timidly.

Even through the awkwardness, Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"You've already asked that one, Hermione."

"Oh," she said, blushing furiously.

Harry's gaze flickered from Hermione to Ron for a split second and their eyes met. Ron had been smiling too, but as soon as they made eye contact, they averted their gazes.

"Oh, this is getting silly," Hermione said with a sigh as she stood up.

"Where are you going?" Ron demanded.

"I'm leaving you two alone so you can talk about this. I'm sick of making conversation."

She grabbed her bag and stormed back up to the castle.

Harry watched her go for as long as possible, not wanting to turn back to where it was only him and Ron. When she had completely disappeared from sight he slowly turned around to find Ron staring at him, his blue eyes looking strained.

"Harry –"

"Ron –"

"No, wait," Ron said firmly. "I need to say something."

Harry looked at his best friend's desperate expression and nodded. Ron breathed in deeply through his nostrils as though he was bracing himself for a game of Quidditch.

"I know you probably hate me right now – even I hate me – so I understand if you don't want to forgive me yet. But there's one thing I want you to know; I didn't tell the guys about you and... Greyback because I wanted to; I just... it slipped out of my mouth before I realised what I'd said. I would never betray you in spite, mate, even if you'd done something awful to me. Not saying you would, mind..."

Harry felt his mouth twitch at Ron's concluding sentence; the boy always babbled when he was uncomfortable.

"Ron, I don't hate you," Harry said honestly. "It's just, with everything that's happened recently with Fenrir and this mark, not to mention Dumbledore... what you did sort of topped it off. But," he added quickly, "I understand why you did it. Peer pressure and all that."

The two boys grinned at each other nervously. Then Ron held his hand out.

"So, we're good?"

Harry nodded and took it.

"We're good."

"Shall we go and find Hermione then?" Ron asked.

"Library?" Harry suggested with a smirk.

"Where else," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

As they left the shady spot under the tree, they missed the grinning blonde boy hiding behind the trunk.

*F-H*

Draco's mind was whirring from the things he'd heard from Potter and Weasley. He tried putting all the strange words together, wanting to know what Potter was hiding.

Firstly, Weasley had mentioned Greyback... Draco knew of him; his father had told him how dangerous that wolf was. Then Potter had said 'Fenrir' which confirmed that Draco hadn't misheard the name. However, what made his brain tick most was when Potter had said, 'everything that's happened recently with Fenrir and this mark...' Draco couldn't help but feel curious about this; was that bruise on Potter's neck something more than a love bite from one of his adoring, Gryffindor fan girls?

He might have to do a Granger and research in the library – anything that could knock the spirit out of that worthless Gryffindor was worth spending time on.

*F-H*

The next morning found Harry screaming. Again.

It was the same dream as yesterday, but instead of feeling scared after waking up, he felt frustrated and embarrassed. Even the dreams about Voldemort never made him scream this much. However, he had decided to put silencing spells up, not only for his roommates' benefits, but also to save him the humiliation.

Sighing, he rubbed his face and looked at the clock on his bedside table; it was six o'clock on a Monday morning. He could go back to sleep for another hour but he doubted that he would even be able to, and he had no intention of lying on his back dwelling on his situation.

So, instead he got out of bed, dressed and made his way down to the Great Hall. The hall wasn't empty but luckily it wasn't too crowded either; there was only a few students, all scattered around on various house tables. The Gryffindor table was empty apart from a few second and third years.

Harry took a seat far away from them and poured himself some juice. However, before he could reach for the toast a hand grabbed his shoulder and a voice hissed in his ear, "Alright, wolfy?"

Harry froze before turning to see who had spoken. His green eyes met grey ones.

"Malfoy," he whispered, his eyes wide. Hastily he composed himself. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to let you know, Potter," Draco said, "that I know."

Harry swallowed and licked his dry lips.

"Know what?" he managed to ask.

"Your little secret," Malfoy whispered in his ear. "I know the meaning behind that thing on your neck, as well as who gave it to you. Weasley will be crushed to learn you're a werewolf's bitch, won't she?"

He laughed in immense joy before stalking away.

Harry couldn't think. His hands were shaking and he felt his eyes well up. Hurriedly, he left the Great Hall, deliberately not looking left where Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table wearing a victorious smirk.

He ran out of the castle, across the courtyard, down the grassy hill and didn't stop until he reached the Forbidden Forest.

He looked up at the vast growing trees and thought to himself why he had come here.

_Hermione said I shouldn't isolate myself_, a voice in his head said.

_But by the time you get back to the castle, Malfoy would have told everyone,_ said another, louder voice._ You'll be isolated from their disgust, anyway._

_Not from my friends! _But this voice seemed to be drowned out by the harsh words from the other.

_Suit yourself, _said the stronger voice, and, in his minds eye, Harry pictured a figure that looked a lot like a mix between himself and Fenrir Greyback, smirking._ Go back to the castle and face the rumours and spite you'll receive, then. _

Harry didn't know what to do. He took a few steps away from the forest before staggering forwards again. He dawdled in front of the trees for what had to have been five minutes before he walked with determined haste into the woods.

It was only now that he realised Fenrir could still be in there, but the thought seemed more appealing than dangerous. So, unsure of his actions, he let his feet wander the forest aimlessly.

After twenty minutes of walking Harry found himself just outside a familiar looking clearing. He gulped and stared at the grassy circle as he remembered his encounter with the werewolf.

Slowly and shakily he fought his way through the trees that seemed to guard the glade. He thought back to how quick he had crossed them the first time when he was running for his life; he hadn't cared about getting his robes torn or his face scratched on the branches then.

Finally, after lots of twig snapping and branch bending, he was inside the open area. He closed his eyes, remembering the fear that had coursed through him as he stood here before, waiting for Fenrir to do something.

Harry shook his head, trying to get rid of the hysteria that was steadily building inside of him. He then noticed something in the middle of the clearing. There was an imprint on the long grass which must have been from where Harry had been thrown to the floor. Slowly he walked over to it and knelt down in the meadow-like grass.

Theoretically this place should scare him – it was where this madness had all started – but instead he found it... comforting. It was as though he was visiting a precious place that held fond, childhood memories.

He looked at his wristwatch and realised that the Great Hall would be completely filled now. Surely Draco had already told his Slytherin gang what he knew; after that, the fact that Harry belonged to Fenrir Greyback would spread like a forest fire.

The thought of going back and facing all the rumours, whispers and pointing fingers was almost too much to tolerate.

_I'm sure I can miss one lesson_, Harry thought to himself as he pulled his knees up to his chest. _McGonagall said I need to relax a lot more, anyway._

Then, for some strange reason, he found himself positioning his body so he was lying down in the sunken-in grass. He felt safe being hidden by the long grass around him; it was as though it was some sort of protective barrier from the rumours that were flying around Hogwarts. All he needed now was some_one_ to protect him from the people inside the school.

*F-H*

Fenrir leant back against the cave wall feeling thoroughly bored. And deprived. And – unsurprisingly – horny.

He was hiding out in a cave in the mountains surrounding the wizard village, Hogsmeade.

At this moment in time he was so frustrated at himself for leaving the school grounds; the urge to see his mate again was overpowering. He had known that Harry would feel this way for him, but he'd always thought the dominant partner would have it easier.

Obviously not.

It wasn't only the need to _see_ Potter, but to touch him again... to feel that soft skin beneath his coarse hands, and to perforate it with his teeth.

It came as quite a surprise when he felt his cock twitch at the thought of Harry and his perfectly pale, smooth skin... He'd noticed in the forest that the boy had an almost ethereal glow, just like the moon; that thought only made him harder.

Growling to himself he looked down at his tattered, torn trousers, not surprised to find a bulge where his erection was pressing. Without thinking about what he was doing, he yanked them off and got down onto his knees, one hand grasping a large boulder in front of him, the other already attending to his cock. Furiously and roughly he pumped himself, imagining his hand was Harry's tight arse which was up in the air for him...

After several minutes of violent rubbing and rasping his mate's name, he gave a raucous roar as he felt himself release; his hand that was clenching the boulder tightened until his knuckles turned white, and he threw his head back gasping for breath.

"Not... good... enough," he muttered to himself.

He pushed himself up, not bothering to put his Muggle trousers back on seeing as he wasn't going out in the village.

He moved to the entrance of the cave, ignoring the mess he was making from his come, and leant his head on the wall. He stared at the castle that held his mate and hoped Harry would feel his gaze on him.

*F-H*

Harry jerked awake, unable to remember when he'd fallen asleep. He wasn't sure what had woken him but – as strange as it sounded – he felt as though someone had been watching him. He sat up and glanced around nervously, expecting to find a pair of amber eyes staring at him. However, he could neither see nor hear a thing. This didn't help him calm down – it would be less frightening if he knew for definite that there was something near him, rather than guess there was.

"F-Fenrir?" he croaked. The name rolled off his tongue easily and he felt a spark of excitement run through him as he imagined the werewolf emerging from the trees to see him.

_Am I weak for giving into this urge? _he thought to himself. _It's only been a couple of days and already I'm yielding to the mark._

He held his head in his hands and let his mind drift...

_Thousands of eyes were staring at him in repugnance and distain, blaming him for his own fate. He tried to get through the crowd but he was constantly poked, shoved, kicked and whacked. He tried telling them to stop but he only received insulting remarks._

"_You werewolf whore!"_

"_Disgusting half-breed!"_

"_Our saviour: the mate of a werewolf? We'll strive on our own, thanks..."_

Harry let out a choked sob and bit his knuckles to prevent himself from breaking down.

He couldn't take that... he couldn't go back to a place filled with such malice and frivolity. He laid himself back down and closed his eyes, trying to think of something that would prevent his hysterics from getting out of control...

_More cruel names were hurled at him, each word a stabbing pain like the Cruciatus curse. But as he pushed through the twisted crowd, he saw someone at the end of it all. He was tall, muscular, amber-eyed and silver-haired._

_Fenrir held out a large hand and Harry outstretched his arm, even before they were in touching distance. He walked purposefully towards his mate, his eyes focused on nothing but the amber ones ahead of him._

_Finally he reached the man and as soon as their hands touched, the crowd disappeared._

_Fenrir looked at Harry indifferently, even sneeringly, but didn't let go._

_And Harry was glad, because if they parted the crowd would come back._

Snapping his eyes open, Harry tried to clear his head – that really wasn't the way to think. Fenrir _wasn't_ the answer to his problems.

What was he doing here, sitting in the place where he had been "marked"?

He pushed himself up and made to leave the forest but stopped when he felt he was being watched again.

"Ignore it," he muttered to himself. He had to go back and face whatever rumours were floating around.

*F-H*

"Harry! Where on earth have you been?" Hermione shrieked as Harry reached the corridor outside Professor McGonagall's classroom.

"Yeah, where've you been, mate?" Ron asked. "You missed Potions."

"Needed to think," he mumbled, his hands deep in his pockets.

"Harry..." Hermione started warily, her expression fearful, "where did you go?"

"Uh, the library?" He hadn't meant to make it a question, but Hermione's strict, Mrs Weasley tone made it almost impossible to lie to her.

"Don't insult my intelligence," she said harshly. "I know you weren't at the library because we looked for you in there. Anyway, you're covered in grass; it's even in your hair! What were you doing?"

Her voice grew louder with each word and Harry cringed at the stares while trying to brush the grass out of his hair.

"Honestly, just yesterday I told you _not_ to isolate yourself, and what do you do? Detach yourself from everyone! If I didn't know any better I'd –"

"Hermione, leave it!" he snapped finally, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

She blinked and jumped back slightly. Ron narrowed his eyes and everyone else looked on alarmed.

"Don't blame Hermione for worrying about you, mate," Ron said firmly. "You could've at least told us where you were."

Harry glared at him, forgetting their truce.

"Listen, _mate,_" Harry snarled, sneering as he used Ron's favourite word, "I didn't tell you because I know you wouldn't let me go, not that I should need permission to go outdoors for some alone time..."

He didn't know where all this rage was coming from – he didn't want to shout or fall out with his friends but at the moment they were the only ones for him to express his rage at.

"Don't you start on us!" Ron roared, his ears red. "Just because we're trying to help you doesn't mean we'll let you take your mood swings out on us!"

"Ah, this looks like a fun show," came the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

Harry cursed and kicked at the wall.

"What's got your _tail_ in a twist, Potter?" Draco asked as he strode up to Harry, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him.

Harry glared at the Slytherin with all the hate he could muster.

"Piss off, Malfoy," he spat.

"Don't worry," he said, and he leant into Harry's ear so only he could hear, "I haven't told. Yet."

Harry's eyes widened and his brow furrowed in confusion.

"What? Why?"

"I'm waiting for the perfect opportunity," he said with a leer.

"Come in," called Professor McGonagall, startling Harry and Draco out of their eye contact. Harry saw Ron and Hermione enter, not bothering to wait for him. He found he couldn't care less.

Before Draco could move away, Harry grabbed his arm subtly.

"Please," he mouthed.

"Oho, I'm going to enjoy dragging this on, Potter," Draco breathed. "I can manipulate you in any way I want now I know your secret."

Draco pulled his arm out of Harry's grip and Harry let him, his own arm flopping lifelessly to his side.

His eyes stared straight ahead as he ignored everything else around him.

He didn't think his life could get any worse; trust Draco Malfoy to change that.


	7. Slytherin Trouble

**Biggest most humungous thanks to beta, Izzy... I really owe a lot to you =) And thanks to imera for the chapter name :D**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter... I promise Fenrir and Harry's meeting is coming soon... verrrry soon ;)**

**Thanks so much for all your reviews! :O I can't believe I've got over 100 for only 6 chapters :S but i'm not complaining ^.^**

**Thanks again :)**

**x**

* * *

Slytherin Trouble

Harry held in his growl as he felt Draco peering over his shoulder _again._

"Do it, Potter, or I might accidentally let something slip about you and Gr–"

"Fine!" hissed Harry.

For the last three days, Draco had been giving Harry whispered instructions on what to do in order to keep his secret safe.

At this precise moment, Draco had requested that Harry should slip up on one of his potions. Last year Harry wouldn't have minded at all, what with the constant mistakes he was prone to in potions anyway, but this year with Professor Slughorn it would be a lot harder to give up his O-grade student level.

So, being watched by Draco, Harry – instead of putting the beetle eyes in his cauldron – dropped several small Hippogriff feathers in there instead.

Immediately his potion was beginning to give off an almost cheese-like aroma and a green smoke had arisen above his head.

"Harry, m'boy!" cried Slughorn waddling over. "What's happened?"

Harry glared at Draco, who was suddenly very interested in his own work, and turned back to his teacher.

"I must have read the instructions wr–"

A loud cough.

Harry sighed as he remembered what Draco had told him to say if Slughorn questioned him on his slipup.

"...instructions wrong. Anyway, sir, I think I probably know better."

Slughorn blinked a few times before chuckling nervously. Harry was uncomfortably aware of the all the stares and glares he was receiving, especially from Ron and Hermione. They were sitting on the other side of the class today; they'd been ignoring him ever since he'd snapped at them three days prior.

"Right, well I suppose you've been lucky in some of your mistakes before..." his professor muttered as he shuffled away.

Harry looked at Draco with an imploring expression, trying to find some remorse in the boy's cold, grey eyes. However, Draco merely smirked and mouthed, "Wait for me after class."

Harry growled and, not bothering with the potion any more, slumped onto his chair, clenching his hair in his hands.

*FG-HP*

"What do you want?" Harry mumbled as he found Draco standing outside in the dungeon corridor.

"That wasn't the reaction I was hoping to get from old Sluggy," Draco drawled, staring at his perfect fingernails in a bored manner.

"That wasn't my fault," Harry said warily, cautious of putting Draco in a bad mood in case the boy decided to spill his secret.

"I know," Malfoy said, finally looking up from his fingers. "I've had enough satisfaction from watching the teachers taking house points off you anyway."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"So... you'll leave me alone?" he asked incredulously. "And you won't tell?"

Draco smirked and pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on.

"Not quite. Meet me in the Paved Courtyard at eight o'clock tonight."

Harry watched the smug Slytherin walk away and couldn't help but feel slightly anxious. At least after tonight he could go back to being free from Draco's orders.

*FG-HP*

"... forgiving him that easily, 'Mione!" came Ron's voice from the common room.

Harry paused on the spiral staircase that led away from the boy's dormitories. He thought Ron and Hermione would have already left for dinner.

"But we told him not to isolate himself, and now _we're _isolating _him_!" Hermione cried frantically.

"He isolated himself in the first place! Do you remember _why_ we stopped talking to him?" Ron asked. "You told him how worried you were and he snapped. I don't care if that thing on his neck's making his mood change; he had no right to talk to us like that."

Harry swallowed nervously, not wanting to reveal himself to his two friends. _Ex-friends_, he corrected.

However, when there was no sign that they were going to leave, Harry took a deep breath and quickly walked down the stone steps, making his way purposefully towards the Fat Lady portrait.

"Harry?" came Hermione's voice.

He flinched slightly before slowly turning around to face her.

"Yes?"

"Um... h-how are you?"

"Grand," he said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Why was he acting so unforgiving and heartless to one of his oldest friends? He wanted to forgive Hermione as well as apologise for his behaviour, but he found he just couldn't bring himself to form the right words.

"What's with you lately?" said Ron, getting up from the squashy sofa.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, folding his arms across his chest as though he was nonplussed.

"In class," Ron said as he took a step towards Harry, "you act different. You act like... well you act like Malfoy. I knew the mark made you act like a git, but not an arrogant one."

Harry swallowed.

"I don't know what you mean."

"So you don't remember telling Professor Slughorn you know better? Or you don't remember laughing in Professor Flitwick's face when he told you how to cast the spell correctly?"

Harry felt the prickling sensation in his eyes again, forewarning the inevitability of tears.

"No."

"What?!" Ron exclaimed.

"Harry," Hermione started, "what's going on?

He looked desperately from Ron to Hermione, wanting to tell them what Draco made him do, but Malfoy had promised that if Harry told, his secret would be out. He wasn't going to take even the smallest risk. Besides, after tonight he could go back to being himself.

"Nothing, I've got to go," he said quietly before leaving the common room, trying to ignore the squirming, guilty feeling in his stomach.

*FG-HP*

After a lonely dinner, Harry made his way to the Paved Courtyard and waited for Draco. He still had quite a while to wait until eight o'clock, so he took a seat on one of the stone benches. A gentle summer breeze ruffled Harry's hair, but he didn't notice; his mind was too preoccupied with thoughts on Ron, Hermione and – Harry shuddered – Fenrir.

He wasn't sure how he felt about Fenrir anymore. After the attack he'd feared the moment when the werewolf would come to "collect" him, but now he wasn't so sure if it was a bad thing. However, as soon as he realised that he was thinking of Fenrir as a saviour or a friend, he tried even harder to convince himself that the best path to take would be to apologise to Ron and Hermione. Every time that thought cropped up, though, a surge of pride and rage would stir inside him, convincing him that Fenrir _was_ the answer. It was a vicious circle of thoughts that plagued Harry's mind, so he was thankful when he saw a blonde head bobbing towards him, distracting him from his thinking.

"Ah, Potter," Malfoy drawled as he reached Harry. "You showed."

Harry said nothing but rose from his bench, not feeling entirely comfortable sitting down while Draco loomed over him.

"How's that bitch-brand feeling?" the boy asked through a smirk.

"Just get on with it, Malfoy," Harry muttered, not rising to Draco's bait. However, his hand rose to his neck subconsciously and he rubbed the rough patch of skin.

"Very well," Draco said, his grin widening as he watched Harry's actions. "I was wondering, do you know what werewolf mates are supposed to do?"

The question shocked Harry so much that he actually felt his jaw drop.

"What's that got to do with anything?" he snarled.

"Just answer the question," Draco said, shrugging. "How much do you know?"

"Enough," Harry spat. He didn't even feel comfortable talking about this topic with Remus, let alone Draco Malfoy.

"Then you'll know you'll be spending a lot of time on your knees," the blonde boy said, leaning in closer to Harry so their noses were almost touching.

Harry shoved Draco away feeling absolutely disgusted at the boy's words.

"Shut up, Malfoy," he growled out.

"Listen to what I say, Potter, else you may find that everyone will know of your naughty, little problem tomorrow."

Harry stared, wide eyed, at the heartless boy before him; he licked his dry lips and, reluctantly, nodded. Draco closed the space between them again and whispered into Harry's ear, "You might need some practise first."

Harry's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what Draco was implying. Surely he wasn't suggesting that...

But then Malfoy pushed Harry's hair behind his ear and spoke directly into it.

"Practise on me," he breathed, his warm breath making Harry shudder.

"What the hell?!" Harry cried, pushing Draco away again. He felt absolutely sickened, not to mention scared; why the hell would Malfoy want that?

Draco's smile was victorious as he said, "You heard me. The Boy Who Lived, on his knees for _me_... such a pretty picture."

Harry's hands were shaking as he fumbled for his wand.

"I wouldn't, Potter." Harry froze, his hand in his pocket. "Unless you want your secret out I suggest you stay in my good books."

"But... that's just... _why?" _he managed to ask, his voice hoarse.

"I don't need a reason," Draco said with an innocent-sounding giggle. "Just do as I say and I'll make sure to take your secret to the grave."

Harry didn't know what to say – he still hadn't got his head around the fact that Draco Malfoy, pureblood, aristocratic Slytherin, wanted to do such... disreputable things with him.

"I'll give you half an hour to think on it," Draco murmured, his eyes glistening with mirth. "When you've reached the right conclusion, I'll meet you on the seventh floor in the Room of Requirement."

And he left, leaving Harry to his disturbed and fretful feelings.

*FG-HP*

Fenrir gave an almighty roar. He wasn't sure why, but he was feeling extremely angry. It was as though someone had stolen something precious of his and were planning on using it for their own purposes.

After a strike to the stone wall of the cave, Fenrir tried to calm down. However, it wasn't easy when he had the annoying, niggling feeling of someone stealing one of his possessions.

_But I don't own anything, _he thought to himself impatiently. _Apart from..._

He paused in his musings. The only thing that he had full ownership of was his mate. Was that what he was feeling? Someone was using the boy? Or maybe Potter mate was using someone for himself! Either way, Fenrir wasn't happy.

Then, as though hit with a memory-recall charm, he realised that it was the full moon. How the hell could he have forgotten? He'd been waiting almost all week for this night!

Looking up at the sky, he noticed that the sun was still setting. He cursed the summer evenings for being so bright, as the moon never really rose until half-nine, ten o'clock.

_Oh well_, Fenrir thought to himself. _At least I can play with the kid until my change. _So, in high spirits, he leapt off the rock and made his way down the mountain, heading purposefully towards the school that held his mate.

*FG-HP*

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Harry whispered desperately. It was all he had been saying for the last painful twenty-five minutes.

He was still outside, pacing the Paved Courtyard, unsure on what he should do.

There was no way he could do that sort of stuff with Malfoy! Maybe he could get away with casting a memory charm on Draco? _It would help if I knew the theory for that spell, though,_ Harry thought bitterly.

Realising there was only three minutes left until half past eight he tried to reach a decision. He was just about to go and face Malfoy when he suddenly felt a guilty weight in his chest. This wasn't right; he wasn't supposed to go to Draco. He didn't know how he knew this, but he knew that if he went to Malfoy he would end up regretting it.

Instead he let the subconscious steps his feet were already taking lead him away from the castle. He had a vague idea of where he was going but he didn't question it. It was only when he was in the Forbidden Forest's clearing again that he realised it was the full moon. The white, ethereal glow from it crept through the trees leaving eerie shadows on the grassy circle.

His eyes widened at the stupid act he'd just committed. It was easy enough for the wolf to get Harry from _inside_ the school, so outside Greyback would have no trouble.

"Fuck," Harry said again. He wanted to run, honestly he did, but his legs wouldn't obey him. He was rooted to the spot, even more so when he heard that chilling, rasping voice...

"Mmm, hello again, mon petite," Fenrir whispered in his mate's ear. "I've come to collect you."

* * *

**A/N: *wails* COME AND COLLECT ME INSTEAD!**


	8. Run Rabbit Run

**Sorry for the wait! I try and give myself a deadline but I never stick to it :(**

**Squeezy hugs to the reviewers and my beta .**

* * *

Run Rabbit Run

"Wh-where's Harry?" Remus wheezed. Hermione and Ron had been heading back to Gryffindor Tower when they were stopped by an out of breath and somewhat sweaty looking Remus Lupin.

He was bent over with his hands on his knees, obviously trying to ease the stitch in his side.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance; they hadn't told Remus about their falling out.

"Uh... the Library?" Ron suggested.

"You mean you don't know?" Remus asked, catching on at once. "Why not? I thought you were going to help him and stay with him!"

"We had a falling out," Hermione implored. "He didn't want to talk to us and we didn't know what to do!"

Remus' expression twisted in anger and Hermione flinched as she saw, for the first time ever, Moony etched upon his face.

"Do you have any idea what tonight is?!" he exclaimed through a gravelly growl.

Ron shook his head but Hermione clasped her hands to her mouth.

"Oh, god," she breathed. "The full moo–"

"Yes!" Lupin cried. "The full moon! It is vital that we find Harry before the pull gets too strong for him. And, if what you said is true about your argument with him, then that pull will be even stronger, unstoppable maybe."

Hermione felt her gut clench with guilt; how could she have turned on Harry so easily? After one, insignificant little argument?

"Remus, I'm so sorry," she whispered.

The man ran a trembling hand through his grey flecked hair.

"I don't want the apology. Save that for Harry." Ron opened his mouth to talk but Lupin raised a hand to silence him. "Enough. Now think – where would he be? And don't say the library because I've checked. Heck, I've checked practically the entire school!"

"S-so, where haven't you looked?" Hermione asked timidly.

Remus sighed. "I haven't done this floor or the grounds."

"Well, how about Ron and I search outside while you search up here?" she suggested.

"No, it's too dangerous out there; I'll search the grounds, you and Ron look up here."

The man gave a forced smile and left. When he was out of sight, Hermione let her tears flow freely.

"Oh, Ron, how could we?" she sobbed, clutching the sleeve of Ron's robe.

"Listen, we can't blame ourselves – this whole thing has been hard on everyone, not just Harry. He couldn't care less about us at the moment. If anything, he's to bla–"

_Slap._

"Don't you _dare_ blame Harry for this," Hermione whispered shakily, her hand slowly dropping to her side.

Ron's hand had flown to his stinging cheek at the impact and he looked at Hermione in wonderment.

"I... 'Mione, I..."

"Let's go," she said, briskly walking away down the seventh floor corridor.

*FG-HP*

"_Mmm, hello again, mon petit," Fenrir whispered in his mate's ear. "I've come to collect you."_

"F-Fenrir..." The boy croaking his name sent a strange spark around his body; it sounded so familiar and personal that Fenrir didn't know what to make of it.

However, before he could respond, the boy had made a run for it. Fenrir snarled; true, he loved it when his prey ran, but not when there was a limited amount of time before he would transform! He was curious as to how the wolf inside him would act towards his mate... hopefully he would recognise the smell of Potter and no harm would come to the boy.

He watched as his mate stumbled through the trees and grinned. _I suppose I can play for a little bit,_ he thought. _I could catch him in no time._

So, after counting to five, he pounced forwards and tore through the forest. He caught a glimpse of the boy's white school shirt as he wove in and out of the trees. Fenrir was impressed; the kid was really nimble and agile. _He'll make a good wolf,_ Fenrir thought absently.

He sped up until he was about five paces behind Harry.

"That's it... run little rabbit, run!" he yelled, his voice portraying the excitement he was feeling.

Harry risked a glance over his shoulder and nearly stopped dead in his tracks at how close the man was. He didn't even know why he was running; wasn't this what he had been waiting for? To meet his mate again? _Maybe it's because I know that when he catches me, I'll be turned, _Harry considered. That thought only encouraged him. He ignored the searing pain in his side and the dull throbbing in his legs and increased his speed as he sprinted away from the werewolf. His strides were longer and faster now and a small hope burned inside him that he could escape his fate of being turned into a monster.

But when he heard Fenrir's voice so intimately close behind him, all that motivation was lost.

"Why run from me?" Harry heard the man growl before he was violently slammed into the leafy, muddy earth. "You'll only get nowhere," Greyback murmured, his breath making Harry gag.

_He was just playing with me,_ Harry realised painfully.

He tried to push himself up – which wasn't easy considering he had a muscular, heavy werewolf on his back – and his arms trembled with the effort.

Fenrir gave a raspy chuckle.

"Adorable, mon petit," he said, his voice gravelly.

Harry slumped back onto the earth panting, his face pressed into the moist soil. He knew he wouldn't win against this man, so that fact – along with a deep, inside feeling of respect for Greyback – made giving in all the more easy.

*FG-HP*

"Harry?" Hermione called, her voice echoing in the deserted, seventh floor corridor.

"You here, mate?" Ron croaked, his voice still hoarse from the slap.

"Ah, are you two looking for Potter too?" came a snide voice.

Hermione whipped round to find Draco Malfoy emerging from behind a pillar.

"What are you doing up here?" she asked suspiciously.

"Waiting," he said shortly, sneer in place. "What about you? Looking for your furry little friend?"

Hermione whipped out her wand in a split second.

"Tell us where he is," she hissed, wand arm shaking.

"And why would I do that?" Draco simpered, folding his arms. "I might not even know."

"You tell us where he is," Ron chirped up, "and you get to keep your pretty face."

Draco chuckled and took a step towards Hermione.

"You drive a hard bargain, but I'll speak. The last time I spoke to Potter he was in the paved courtyard, pouring over a _very _determinable decision."

Draco smirked as he turned around to resume his skulking.

"What do you me–?" Ron started, but stopped when Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Come on, we need to tell Remus!"

*FG-HP*

Remus bit his knuckle to stop a sob escaping. How could he have let this happen to his best friend's son?

"Oh, Harry," he breathed. He made his way through the different courtyards, checking each one thoroughly, until he was back at the paved one.

He sat down on one of the stone benches and pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt a headache begin to stir.

"Remus!" came a distant voice.

He looked up to find Ron and Hermione running towards him.

"Remus, is he here?" Hermione called when she was about twenty feet away.

Lupin shook his head, then realised that the two teens wouldn't have seen and shouted, "No!"

When they reached him, Ron said, "We spoke to Draco Malfoy. He said that Harry was here."

"Well he's not," Remus said through gritted teeth. "I'm going to search the Forbidden Forest. You two alert Professor McGonagall."

"We'll come too," Hermione insisted, and Ron nodded.

Remus sighed and looked at the two teenagers. Their fierce, persevering expressions told Remus there would be no arguing. "Fine, but stick by me, and keep your wands out."

They made their way down the grassy hill, all of them heading towards the dark forest that lay ahead of them.

*FG-HP*

"Were you waiting for me?" he rasped in the boy's ear. "You wanted me to come for you, didn't you?"

However, Potter was behaving strangely placidly, not struggling or protesting.

"Didn't you, _Harry_?" Fenrir cooed in the boy's ear, using his mate's name hoping to give him that sense of familiarity he had felt earlier.

All he got for an answer was what sounded like a sob. Not all that gently he turned Harry around so the boy was on his back. Now he could see his mate's pretty, little face.

Which was crying.

Fenrir grinned as he leant in and licked up the boy's salty tears from his soft cheeks. Harry flinched and Fenrir noticed the boy wrinkle his nose against the smell that always clung to Fenrir: death and rotten flesh.

"Given up trying to struggle? Not going to run away again, little kitten?" he whispered into Harry's ear.

"I don't want to go back," the boy croaked.

That took Fenrir by surprise. He sat up and studied his mate whose breathing had become erratic and shaky.

"Oh? And why's that?"

Harry bit his lip and turned his gaze to the trees to his left.

_That won't do,_ Fenrir thought to himself angrily. He grasped Harry's cheeks, which were still damp from his tongue mopping up the tears, and turned the boy's face back round to look at him.

"Look at me, and tell me why you don't want to return to your safe little school," Fenrir hissed, feeling excited that his mate might have started hating humans already.

"Everyone knows," Harry said, his voice breaking. "They know what you did to me."

Fenrir chuckled darkly.

"Excellent," he said with a leer. "So they know you belong to me now? How did they react?"

A stray tear ran down his mate's face and Fenrir wiped it away, one of his long nails scratching the surface of Harry's cheek and leaving a faint red line.

Potter shook his head stiffly.

"I want to hear, though," Fenrir breathed. "What did they do? Did you see the fear in their eyes when they knew it was Fenrir Greyback who had marked the great Harry Potter?"

Harry let out a whimper which then turned into full out hysterical sobbing.

"I don't... know what... I want," he said through gasping breaths. "I don't want... to go back... but I know I d-definitely don't want _you_."

Fenrir growled and wrapped his hand round the boy's thin, delicate neck; Harry instantly ceased his sobbing as the man traced the bruising mark on Harry's neckline. The cruel werewolf wore a strangely soft expression as he studied Harry's bruise. Then, without warning he performed the claiming again. Maybe it was the mating instinct, but Fenrir felt as though he had to make sure the boy – or anyone else, for that matter – knew who he belonged to.

As Fenrir sucked violently on the pulsing neck and his incisors scraped at Harry's neck, a drop of the boy's blood fell on Fenrir's tongue and he shivered. The taste was so good; the metallic, rusty, raw blood warmed the very bones of his body and he found himself anticipating his change even more, just so he could taste more of Potter.

After he'd finished his second claiming, he responded to Harry's objection of supposedly not wanting him.

"Yes, you do," he crooned. "You want to live without burden and worry; I'll give that to you."

Harry finally looked directly at Greyback. The intimacy of their closeness allowed Harry to get a good look at the man's face.

The first thing Harry noticed was the bright amber eyes that were staring directly into his own green ones. The man had long, silver hair that stopped just short of his shoulders, and had a dark goatee-styled beard, while scars and blemishes adorned the terrifying face. Harry was curious as to what the man's torso looked like, as he hadn't had much time to study it before. His eyes flickered down to the muscular, chiselled, tanned chest which also held various wounds, and unwillingly his gaze moved further down until he spotted a dark hair line that ran from the man's abdomen into Fenrir's tattered and torn denim trousers.

Harry blushed and tore his eyes away from... _there_.

"Like what you see, do you, boy?" the man remarked, leaning over Harry even more. The thick muscles on the arms on either side of Harry's head rippled threateningly.

Harry's blushed deepened as he realised his staring hadn't gone unnoticed.

" 'Course you do," Greyback said nonchalantly. "But will I like what _I_ see?"

Harry didn't even have a chance to stop the man as his shirt was torn from his body.

Once the shirt was off, Fenrir growled appreciatively; his mate's body was _beautiful_. Subtle muscles tensed under his gaze and Fenrir could just make out the outline of several fragile-looking ribs. The skin was so pale and white like his beloved moon, and as he ran his abrasive hands possessively over the youthful torso, he felt his cock twitch. He'd waited so long to touch this body...

"Please," Harry whispered, startling Fenrir out of his daze. "I... I don't want..."

But the boy was cut off when Fenrir brushed a chunky finger over a hard, pink nipple. Potter made a delightful, little whimpering noise and a light flush appeared on his high cheekbones.

"Mmm, you like that?"

The boy bit his lip as he flinched against the unfamiliar touch. Fenrir chuckled, his massaging of the pink nubs becoming harder and firmer.

Harry could feel his whole body tremble as those intrusive, rough hands roamed his upper body. He wanted to push the man away and tell him how he had no right to do this... but he found he couldn't. After all, Fenrir was supposed to be his mate and he was feeling... good. Fenrir's touch roused an electric excitement deep within him and it felt extraordinary.

Suddenly the large hands were gone and Harry felt a strange sense of loss.

"Come, pup," Greyback said suddenly, as he hoisted the boy up under his armpits. He wanted to get back to his cave where he could continue the exploration of his mate's supple body.

At the sudden lift from Fenrir, Harry stumbled slightly and held his head against the nauseous feeling building up from being marked a second time. Vaguely he felt Fenrir grab his arm and lead him away somewhere. _My shirt's back there, _he thought distantly.

"W-where are we going?" Harry asked, his voice slightly slurred.

"Away from here," the man said gruffly, as he tugged on Harry's arm. "You don't belong here no more."

Harry panted as he tried to keep up with the huge strides Fenrir was taking. It wasn't until the trees began to thin that Harry realised Fenrir was taking him back to the school.

_Of course he has,_ Harry told himself. _It's the only way to get out._

As soon as they emerged through the trees, Fenrir stopped and turned to look at Harry.

"Take a last look at your school, boy," he sneered, and before Harry could turn away, Fenrir grabbed the boy's jaw and turned the green eyes to the castle.

Despair overwhelmed Harry as he took in the building that he had, once, called home.

Did he really want to leave? Just because of a few arguments and whispers?

"You don't have a choice," Fenrir snapped, as though he had been reading Harry's thoughts. Before Harry could even open his mouth to argue, he felt a large pair of hands grab him by the waist and was chucked unceremoniously over the man's shoulder.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" Harry shrieked, struggling to keep his head up from pressing into Fenrir's back.

"You walk too slow, pet," Greyback muttered, and began marching purposefully towards the exit of the school.

"Put me down!" Harry cried, his voice trembling due to the bumpy strides the man was taking. His fear had been replaced with annoyance; he felt like some damsel-in-distress being rescued by her knight-in-shining-armour. Except Harry's supposed 'knight' was a ferocious, sexually deprived, terrifying werewolf. "I said, put me d–!"

But Harry stopped short when he felt one of those probing hands rest on his butt cheeks.

Fenrir dragged one of his fingernails up the material of the boy's trousers where he knew the crack of the boy's arse would be. Even through the fabric, he could feel the boy tense – and he _loved _it.

"Pretty little arse, you've got, pup..."

Harry let out a dry sob and gasped when the man's finger came to rest at the top of his trousers. He'd never felt so helpless; after all, he was practically bent in half over a man's shoulder, half naked. But, even through his desperation to be back on his own two feet again, Harry found himself in awe at how steady Greyback's hands were, considering he was walking at what could only be called a brisk pace.

Fenrir suddenly slipped his fingers under the seam of the boy's trousers, his forefinger stroking the soft skin just above the line that divided the two firm cheeks.

"W-wait," Harry grunted. "Please..."

Fenrir didn't want to stop; he was too eager to get back to his cave. However, a part of him – which was stronger than the lust he had for the boy – wanted to keep Harry moderately happy.

"What is it?" he asked, his fingers frozen in their position above Harry's arse.

"I-I'll be quiet, just please d-don't..."

Fenrir narrowed his eyes in confusion and his step faltered for the tiniest second. Then it came to him; Harry obviously thought he was touching him to threaten him, scare him into silence, perhaps.

Deciding that he would tell Potter later that there would be no bargaining in their relationship, he grinned.

"Good, but rest assured, mon petit, this _will_ continue later."

_After all, _Fenrir thought, _I do have the right to touch what is mine._

*FG-HP*

Hermione squinted into the distance.

"Remus... what's that?" she asked quietly, pointing straight ahead of her.

Remus narrowed his eyes and followed Hermione's gaze. About two hundred feet away, heading away from the school and the forest, was a large, bulky figure, yet it was too big to be one person...

"Harry," Remus whispered. There was the slightest pause before all three of Harry's friends ran towards him, crying, screaming, and shouting his name.

*FG-HP*

Hazily Harry saw a small group of people running towards Fenrir and him(,) crying his name.

"Harry!" screamed a distant voice.

"Stop!" cried another.

Fenrir stopped in his tracks and whirled round to see who had dared told him to stop. He gave a low growl and swung Harry off his shoulders. Funnily enough, the boy didn't attempt an escape; he merely hid behind Fenrir as though he didn't want to be seen by his friends.

"What do you want?" Greyback roared.

"Let him go, Greyback!" Lupin yelled. "Give him back!"

Fenrir let out a mad cackle as he recognised the voice; Remus Lupin had been one of his first turns.

"I'm not keeping him here, Lupin! Come and see for yourself!"

"Please," came a small voice. "I don't want them t–"

"Quiet, cub," Fenrir hissed over his shoulder, and Harry immediately shut his mouth.

Fenrir grinned as he watched Remus Lupin, followed by two teenagers, run to him.

"Harry!" the girl exclaimed.

"Step aside, Fenrir," Lupin said, his wand directed at Fenrir's face.

Fenrir chuckled deeply.

"As you wish." And he took a stride to the left leaving his mate exposed.

"Harry!" the red-headed boy cried, taking a step towards to Potter. However, Harry merely flinched and stepped backwards.

"Wh-what are you doing, Harry?" Remus asked weakly. "Come with us."

Fenrir watched his mate closely, and felt a strange surge of pride as Harry shakily shook his head.

"You see, Lupin?" Fenrir growled, pushing Harry behind him once again. "He wants to be with me."

"Harry doesn't know what he wants!" Remus snarled. "Obviously the mating instinct is overpowering the want to come home."

"So you're going to take the boy against his will?" Fenrir sneered. "I say let him choose."

Harry felt like a lost puppy being fought over by his old owners and his new owner.

"Harry?" Hermione asked softly. "I know we haven't been on speaking terms lately, and for that I'm sorry but know this: we all love you too much for you to go away."

Harry poked his head out from behind the muscular body in front of him.

"Harry," Remus said, his voice pleading. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. I promised myself I'd look after you for your mother and father. I'm sorry I failed."

Harry took several steps so he was closer to Lupin.

"I've only wanted good things for you, but it seems I can't protect you from everything, as much as I'd like to."

Harry was about to open his mouth to speak when, suddenly, he felt a large hand grab the scruff of his neck and was yanked backwards.

"You know they're making that bullshit up, don't you?" Fenrir whispered in Harry's ear. "They only want you there so you can fulfil your purpose. I don't care about that; with me you'd be free."

"Harry, don't listen to him," Remus warned.

But the close proximity of Fenrir and the familiar yet rancid smell of the man's breath was making Harry's mind go hazy. He felt tired all of a sudden, like Fenrir's scent was a knock-out drug. Feeling weak at the knees, Harry leant on Fenrir, his head resting on the man's chest.

Fenrir looked away from his pup so he could see the heartbroken expression of Remus Lupin. He smirked.

"I win," he whispered.

* * *

**Thanks to all my lovely readers :)**


	9. Under the Full Moon

**I'm so sorry! **

Chapter Nine

After the encounter with Remus, Ron and Hermione, Harry's thoughts hadn't been much more than a blur. Being around Fenrir made his body tingle, his mind foggy, and his heart ache, though he didn't know how any of that was possible. He hated the man for goodness sake!

_You don't hate him, _said the Fenrir-like voice in his head. You_ went to find him;_ you _didn't ask to be rescued when you had the chance._

During the bumpy, uncomfortable journey, Harry had fallen limp; he was too tired to prevent his head from lolling upside down, so his face was pressed in between Fenrir's shoulder blades. He was also very cold seeing as he was topless, his shirt being back in the forbidden forest, so he took comfort in the warmth of Fenrir's body.

It had hurt his heart when they had crossed through the meagre wards of Hogwarts. He had watched the castle grow smaller and smaller as Fenrir took him further away.

_I really don't know what I want, do I? _Harry asked himself. _One minute I dread going back to the castle, the next I want to go with this... werewolf! No, I don't want to go with him... I've got to keep my head._

"Put me down," Harry said shortly, as Greyback wound his way, stealthily and sneakily, through the shadows of Hogsmeade.

"I thought you'd fainted, pup," Fenrir said, a smirk emerging as he heard his mate's muffled voice. He hoisted the boy up so his grip was more secure. "And I have no intentions of putting you down where you could make an escape. You're quite fast for a human, I must say."

Harry snorted at being called a human. "Thanks."

Fenrir grunted, unsure whether his cub was being sarcastic or not. He continued making his way to the cave, ignoring his mate's protests and objections for him to be put down. Fenrir thought he'd enjoy hearing the fight and spirit inside the boy, but he found himself wanting to please his mate. _Later, _he thought, w_hen he's unable to get away, I'll make it up to him._

*FG-HP*

Fenrir looked up to the sky and saw the moon hiding behind a grey sheet of cloud.

"Nearly time," he muttered to himself.

He picked up his speed and sprinted the rest of the way to the cave, his pup bouncing on his shoulder as his body jostled at the speed.

Harry grunted at the sudden jerky movements and tried to tell Fenrir to slow down, but the vigorous strides the man was taking made it hard for Harry to articulate properly.

As soon as Fenrir reached the outskirts of his cave, he felt a sudden spasm spread down his back. He grunted and dropped Harry to the floor, who landed with a soft thud. At the sudden pain that was rapidly coursing round his body, Fenrir let out a soft whine and dropped to his knees.

Harry didn't know what to do. He watched this strong, tough man fall to floor in what Harry could only assume to be agonizing pain. He would have thought seeing this monster of a man in agony would be satisfying, but for some reason Harry wanted to help him.

"F-Fenrir?" he croaked.

The man turned to look at him, and even in the dim light Harry could see the man's pupils were dilated. Fenrir opened his mouth to speak but before he could utter a single syllable, his back arched and he fell.

Harry scrambled up and hurried over to Fenrir.

"What do I do?" he asked hysterically. Surely he'd get bitten or eaten if he stayed with a werewolf who clearly hadn't taken the Wolfsbane potion?

"You mustn't... ru–" but Fenrir was unable to finish as he let out a loud, mournful howl.

Harry jumped at the sound and shuffled backwards, watching the man before him tear off what little clothes that were covering up that marred, muscular body.

Fenrir tried to tell Harry not to worry; the mating instinct in his wolf form should be stronger than that of his urge for human flesh, but Harry didn't know that. Damn it, he should have explained what would happen earlier! However, before he could think another rational thought, his mind started to haze over, leaving nothing but primal instincts and the need to eat, sleep and run.

He let out a bloodcurdling howl as he felt his bones rearrange themselves and he convulsed maniacally on the floor.

Harry continued to watch Greyback as he transformed, the moonlight illuminating his constantly changing form. As much as he wanted to run away, Harry found he couldn't look away from the changing werewolf. It was captivating, hypnotic almost. When Fenrir let out a whine worthy of a frightened, newborn puppy, Harry felt his heart ache. The first thought that rushed through his mind was, "_Your mate is in pain. Do something."_

So, almost subconsciously, Harry found himself edging closer to the distressed man whose figure was rapidly changing into the form of a wolf.

"Shh, it's okay," Harry whispered, his voice shaky from nerves. "I'm here, hush."

He stretched out a comforting hand but snatched it back as Fenrir turned and snapped his jaw – which was now a snout – down on where Harry's hand had been a mere moment ago.

With another ear-screeching howl, Fenrir's body was nearly unrecognisable. His joints were constantly rearranging themselves as his body began the final stages of the transformation.

Harry felt his stomach turn as Greyback's joints cracked into different positions until all that was left was a golumesque figure, cowering on the floor. Memories of Harry's third year rushed back into his mind as he recalled Lupin's transformation. Taking a deep breath, he stretched out his hand again, this time ignoring the fear, and focusing on this strange, primal tenderness that was pulsing through his veins. He needed to help his... his _mate_.

"Fenrir, it's okay, you're okay..."

At the man's cowering, crouching form, Harry ran his hand along the exposed back. Immediately the werewolf reacted to the touch; the bony back arched up into Harry's touch, very similar to how Crookshanks reacted to Hermione's petting.

_Wait a minute... _Harry thought, his hand freezing on Fenrir's back, _did I just insinuate that I was 'petting' Fenrir?_

Harry shook his head; that didn't matter now, all he knew was that this slow stroking of Fenrir's back was keeping the wolf calm. They stayed like that for what had to have been ten long minutes, until finally, Greyback slowly stood up so he was towering over Harry.

Harry gazed up at the huge werewolf and started trembling; Greyback was a lot larger than Remus when he had transformed. He found he couldn't do anything but sit on the earth, staring into the hungry, amber eyes which were getting ever closer to his face. Harry flinched as the snout was suddenly pressed against his cheek, the warm air from the nose gusting over his face as Fenrir scented him. When Harry realised that he was safe he relaxed a little and couldn't suppress a grin as the creature in front of him lay down and rested its head in Harry's lap.

_This is weird,_ Harry thought as he stroked the wolf's head.

"I... um... I don't know if you can understand me," Harry began uncertainly, "but... uh... thanks for, you know, not attacking me."

Harry blushed as Fenrir sat up and stared into Harry's eyes. It was strange but Harry felt as though, if it were able, the wolf would have laughed.

"Stop looking at me like that," he mumbled. It was so bizarre how Harry wasn't fussed that he was in the presence of a werewolf. He supposed that was part of the deal of being a werewolf's mate though. He snapped out of his reverie when a warm, wet tongue licked up his face, not once, nor twice, but three times.

"Urgh!" Harry exclaimed disgusted, standing up and wiping his face on his arm. "That's gross!"

The werewolf narrowed its eyes and Harry gulped; had he offended Fenrir?

"Hey! Where are you going?" Harry called as the werewolf turned and walked in the opposite direction of Harry. He began to panic; should he follow Greyback? What if he wanted to be left alone? Or, what if Harry had truly upset him? "Um, I'm sorry?"

But no luck, the wolf didn't change its path. Harry made his mind up; he ran after the wolf and caught up with him in no time. However, Fenrir didn't acknowledge Harry's presence at all. He merely continued to slink away to wherever he was headed. Harry decided it was probably best not to say anything until Fenrir made a move, so he traipsed after the wolf, wondering why they were heading away from the cave. He was getting slightly edgy but said nothing; Fenrir was his mate, he wouldn't lead him into any danger.

Finally the wolf came to a halt at a rippling lake. Harry looked at it nervously; it looked dark and threatening, not to mention scary the way the moonbeams reflected off the subtle waves.

Harry then looked up at Fenrir who was approaching him slowly.

"F-Fenrir... I... I'm not too sure about th– HEY!" Fenrir had pounced on Harry and was now tearing off Harry's trousers. "Get off me!"

But Greyback didn't oblige, he ripped at Harry's trousers until Harry was left in nothing but his underwear. Fenrir then retreated and stood by the side of the lake, watching Harry intently. Harry sat up and wrapped his arms round his body protectively. Earlier he hadn't cared that much that he was topless, but now he was even more exposed he felt downright paranoid.

Fenrir looked into the lake and splashed the water with his paw, indicating for Harry to get in.

"Are you mad?" he asked. "It'll be freezing in there!"

The wolf growled angrily and Harry started. He knew his mate wouldn't harm him, but at the moment Fenrir looked downright dangerous. So, hesitantly Harry made his way over to the edge of the lake and looked down at the dark depths.

"I can't swim," Harry stated. "What if I drown?"

Fenrir somehow managed a glare and Harry shivered at the threat in the amber eyes. Carefully he dipped a toe in to test the temperature of the lake and immediately goosebumps had sprouted all over his body. The water was _cold._

_He wants me to take a bath?_ Harry thought, and then understanding hit him like a rock; Fenrir had tried washing Harry with his tongue but seeing Harry didn't like it, he'd taken him to bathe in the water.

Harry looked at Fenrir imploringly. "This is very considerate of you and all but please listen; I really don't need to bathe. I had a shower yester–"

_Splash._

Fenrir had nudged Harry into the lake and was now in the water with him. In his wolf form he was much taller than his normal self so from his shoulders up he was above the water. Harry, meanwhile, was struggling to stay afloat and his little head bobbed in and out of the water, so Fenrir's impulsive reaction to save his mate kicked in.

Harry spluttered for air and tried to stay afloat but he just couldn't stay up for more than three seconds. Just when he thought he was running out of energy to resurface again he felt a strong arm curl round his waist and was hoisted up out of the icy depths. He coughed and gasped before opening his eyes to find he was back-to-chest with Greyback. He held on to the thick arm for dear life, not wanting to slip under the water again.

Suddenly he felt himself being turned around and found himself nose to nose with the hybrid-looking werewolf. He didn't know what to do so he just kept Fenrir's gaze, shivering slightly as the cool water rocked against him.

This had to be the most interesting bath time Harry had ever experienced, and that was including the time when Myrtle had joined him in the Prefects tub.

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**Okay, there's chapter nine done. Again, I'm so sorry for my late updates, not only on this, but on EVERYTHING else.**

***gives readers tripple... no QUADRUPLE choc chip cookies :D***


	10. Ways of the Wolf

**Another long wait :( But I don't think it was as long as before :)**

**Thank you all for your continued support in reviewing, alerting, or just reading :)**

**I have to say a HUMUNGOUS thanks to my beta, Izzy. Thanks for all the speedy beta-ing!**

**I hope you enjoy this chappy.**

**Warning: FLUFF AHOY!**

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Ways of the Wolf 

Harry shivered again as he felt the occasional night-time breeze against his body. Every now and then a drop of lake water ran down his back from his sopping wet hair, which lay flat against his head.

He and Greyback squelched back to the cave in silence. Harry was still pretty ticked off at the wolf for pushing him in the lake.

_At least he saved me from drowning, though,_ Harry thought to himself. _And let me put my pants back on... _

The journey back to the cave seemed quicker than the trip there, so it was with some surprise that Harry found himself staring at the entrance to the cave in what appeared to be no time. Harry looked up at Greyback who was staring intently at him. He took the look to mean, _in_ _the cave, now._

Obediently he shuffled into the dark cavern and outstretched his hands so he wouldn't bump into anything. Harry had never been fond of the dark and in a place like this, with a ferocious werewolf behind him, wasn't making things any easier. _He's not ferocious, he's your mate, he will look after you, _said the Fenrir-like voice in his head, and immediately Harry felt guilty for feeling that way.

Suddenly, before Harry could take another step, he felt a strong grip on the scruff of his neck and was yanked backwards towards a cold hard chest.

"Hey!" he objected, struggling to get out of the hold, but Greyback merely sat down and wrestled Harry to the ground.

Now Harry was beneath the werewolf, who was watching him with calculating amber eyes. Harry didn't know what to do so he offered a wobbly smile. Then, without any warning, Greyback opened his mouth wide and Harry feared that he would be turned into a werewolf like this, unprepared and half naked. However, from the soft whining noise and the squinted eyes Harry realised Fenrir was yawning, and before Harry could do anything else, the wolf flopped down next to Harry, his long legs locked around Harry's.

_He's asleep? _Harry thought as he lay on his back stiffly.

"Fenrir?" he murmured, but he received no answer, only a warm gust of breath on his neck.

_This is going to be a long night, _he thought to himself, knowing he wouldn't get to sleep on the rock-hard ground.

*FG-HP*

When Fenrir awoke the next morning he was surprised to be pain-free. Usually after the full moon he would be covered in blood, scratches, bruises and aches, but this morning he was... fine. He stretched and gave a mighty yawn before rolling onto his back and tucking his arms underneath his head. When he turned over he had a good view of the entrance to his cave. However, blocking part of the view and sitting a few steps ahead of Fenrir was a boy. It took five seconds for Fenrir to recall the events of last night and he was suddenly filled with happiness that he wasn't alone this morning.

He poked Harry's back with his foot, startling the boy out of his daydream. Harry whipped round from the entrance of the cave.

"What?" he snapped.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Fenrir demanded.

A blush had appeared on Harry's cheeks and he mumbled stubbornly, "No," and turned back around.

Fenrir narrowed his eyes and sat up before pouncing on the boy, causing him to growl angrily, though Fenrir found it rather cute.

"Get off!"

"Tell me cub," Fenrir murmured, turning the boy over to face him. "You've been very quiet since your bath."

Harry glared. "Why did I need a bath anyway?" he groused. "I stay clean enough."

"That's exactly my point. You stank of human showers and cleanliness," the man said with a sneer. He then sniffed Harry's neck. "Mmm, now you smell natural, like the forest." He pulled away from Harry's neckline and grinned toothily, revealing several sharp incisors. "You live with me you need to live _like_ me; bathing in whatever water's available, eating whatever food you can grab your hands on and the like. Now, tell me what you were thinking. _Honestly._"

Harry grimaced, knowing Fenrir would most likely end up forcing the truth out of him anyway. The truth was that Harry had been thinking about Fenrir's wolf transformation compared to some of the dreams he'd had.

"Well... How come, in my dream, you had fur as a wolf?" he asked, before realising how silly he sounded. They were dreams for goodness sake! _But then, most of them hadn't been too far off premonitions,_ Harry mused, thinking of how similar the chase in his dream had been compared to the chase in real life. _Except Fenrir wasn't in wolf form and he didn't bite me at the end of it..._

A smirk was slowly appearing on the man's face. "You dreamt of me, pup?"

Harry frowned and attempted to push the man away. "See this is why I didn't want to tell you," he grumbled.

"No, I'm glad you did," Fenrir said smugly, looking slightly amused. "But you said it yourself, you _dreamt _I had fur. Dreams aren't real, pup," he added condescendingly.

Harry bit his lip, wondering if he should he tell Fenrir about how accurate some of his dreams had been...

"Or are they real?" the man suddenly whispered, his eyes scheming. "Tell me your dream, cub, it might make sense after I hear it."

Harry squirmed uncomfortably beneath Fenrir, feeling his face grow red from embarrassment.

"Please don't laugh," he begged.

"No promises."

Harry sighed and fidgeted some more before retelling his dream.

"Well, it was like... we were sleeping, yeah? But we were both, you know, wolves, but the normal looking wolf-type, fur and all that. I think you were silver and I was black. And, well, I got up to move away but you woke up and looked at me, and I instantly bowed down for you!" Harry let out a hysterical-sounding false laugh, but stopped when he saw the seriousness in Fenrir's eyes. He continued, "Then you came over to me and... sort of nuzzled against me and ... yeah."

Fenrir seemed startled that Harry ended there.

"That was it?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah?"

He sat up and stared down at the boy. The kid's dream did make sense, and he didn't think it a coincidence that Harry should dream of what should happen after they've mated... Fenrir thought to himself for what had to have been two long minutes before Harry interrupted his thoughts.

"So, um, does it add up? My dream?"

"It does, pup, it definitely does."

Fenrir was silent again and Harry realised he would have to push again to get any answers from the man.

"How?"

Fenrir grumbled something, stood up and began pacing up and down the width of the cave. With his long legs he covered the distance within four steps.

"Well, you see, after a werewolf supposedly finds his mate and completes the actual mating business –" Harry grimaced "– their wolf form changes into a fully-fledged wolf. 'Fur and all that_',_ as you put it. Also we can change into our form whenever we like, we're not just restricted to the full moon. Plus, we get to keep our human minds while we're transformed; none of the primal instincts are left."

Harry gazed at Fenrir with wide eyes. Is that what his dream was showing? He and Fenrir after they had... mated?

He swallowed before saying, "So... we'd have to... have s-sex, right?" _Damn the stutter on the 'S' word! _Harry groused in his head, angry with himself for sounding like such a little kid.

"Indeed," the man said quietly. "During the new moon. That way I won't be affected seeing as it's not the full moon." Fenrir had thought from the first time he had found Harry the sex would be easy to take from the boy. He'd only wanted him to play with, 'a quick fuck' as some might put it. But now, after finding out Harry was his mate, it changed things. He couldn't very well just take the boy, who happened to be his soul mate, without his consent, which he doubted Harry would gladly give away. He let out an angry roar and hit the cave wall with both of his fists before resting his forehead on the cold stone wall.

Harry jumped at the loud growl and stared at the man who had seemingly fallen to pieces. Harry had an idea of what was going through the man's head. The freedom of no longer being a wolf dependant on the full moon must be tempting for Fenrir, plus it would be a whole lot less painful during the transformation. All the man needed for that liberty was to mate with Harry, and who was Harry to deny the man such a blissful way of life?

"F-Fenrir?" he said softly.

"What?" the man hissed.

"I... I... give you my consent," he whispered.

Fenrir's head snapped up and he gazed at Harry with disbelieving eyes.

"You would do that for me?" the man asked huskily.

Harry nodded and tried a smile, but it crumpled under the fear of what he'd just given himself up to. He bit his lip to stop a sob escaping.

Fenrir looked at the boy before him who looked close to having a nervous breakdown. It must have been hard for the kid to say that, but he knew Harry didn't really mean it. He would let Fenrir take his inner wolf from their mating, but there was no way he would enjoy it.

"Go for a walk," Fenrir muttered. "Think over what you just said. I need to get some food."

Harry nodded shakily, got up and made for the entrance of the cave with a quick pace.

"Oh, and cub?" the man called. Harry looked back at Fenrir. "Don't run away. If you do the consequences will be... Well, let's just say you won't like em."

Harry swallowed and his eyelids flickered nervously. That thought had crossed his mind, but he found that he really wouldn't have anywhere to run to if he chose to leave Fenrir.

"I'll come back," he promised, and left the cave. He was glad Fenrir had given him the choice to take a walk by himself. He liked solitude; it gave him time to think.

As he walked further and further away from the cave, he tried his best to memorise the steps he took. Finally he came to a stop at a beautiful floral meadow. He sat down and basked in the morning sunlight, absentmindedly picking at the grass or plucking petals from flowers.

His thoughts went back to the cave and his promise to Fenrir... What had he just done? He'd offered Fenrir his body. Why? He didn't have a clue, but thinking back to his emotions, he'd felt guilty at the thought of saying no, thus denying the man what he obviously craved. It had also seemed like the easiest thing to say at the time, though how he didn't know.

_Maybe it won't be that bad, _Harry thought in the hope of convincing himself. _Fenrir wouldn't hurt me..._

He laid himself down and enjoyed the sunlight bathing his face.

*FG-HP*

Fenrir trudged through the forest, naked as the day he was born, with a hand-crafted spear in one hand, the other hand carrying a long piece of twine. He wanted to get something good for their breakfast and, for some reason, he wanted it to be something Harry would enjoy. _Squirrel? Pigeon? Hedgehog? _No, they were all far too scrawny, he may as well give Harry a rat to devour.

The snap of a twig alerted Fenrir to the fact that there was someone or something in his territory. His ears pricked up and he listened harder. The soft sound of hooves magnified in his sensitive ears and he scoured the forest for whatever animal was in there. Seeing a pair of antlers through the trees told him it was a stag. _Perfect,_ he thought, grinning to himself. _There's breakfast, lunch and dinner right there._

He padded softly through the grass and soil, weaving in and out of the trees and not making a sound as he approached the oblivious animal. He gripped his spear tighter as the stag grew closer. Finally he was in jumping distance and, with no sound at all, he leapt forwards and landed on the beast's back before impaling his spike through the stag's neck. Instantly the legs gave way and buckled, leaving Fenrir to finish his job quite easily. Within seconds the stag was dead and tied up in the rope Fenrir had brought with him. It was a good catch, even if he did say so himself. As he dragged it back, he realised that he couldn't wait to show Harry what they'd be feasting on today.

*FG-HP*

Harry didn't know how long he should stay out so, after an hour or so of relaxing in the meadow, he decided he should probably head back. He was restless and hungry anyway.

Surprisingly Harry found that he managed to make his way back to the cave with no difficulty at all, he didn't have to stop and think what way to turn once. However, just as the cave came into view, a loud, rumbling sound resonated behind him. Slowly, he turned around and came face to face with a wolf. It was dark grey with black eyes and Harry was instantly reminded of the grim. He tried to slowly back away but as he moved, the wolf crept closer. He knew he should probably stay still but when the wolf snapped its jaws and barked, Harry's wits left him and he bolted for the cave. However, the wolf was faster and it managed to get in front of Harry, forcing him to run back into the forest.

"FENRIR!" Harry shouted desperately as he did his best to outrun the wolf. "FEN-oof!"

The wolf had pounced and now had Harry pinned beneath it. Suddenly Harry felt the most excruciating pain down his left arm. The wolf had dug its teeth into Harry's flesh causing blood to gush down his arm.

Instantly Harry's eyes were beginning to fog over due to the pain and the feeling of hot, sticky blood beneath his left side. It was only as he felt himself drift away that he realised the wolf was now nowhere to be seen, and standing over him instead was a familiar looking man. "F-Fen...rir..." but the desire to sleep was too much.

*FG-HP*

Fenrir was in the middle of setting up a fire to cook Harry's half of the stag on when he heard it; a bark belonging to, what sounded like, a wolf of the forest.

Immediately he left the carcass and made his way to the outside of his cave. He listened hard but heard nothing. As long as that wolf stayed away from his territory he wasn't bothered. He was just about to turn away when he heard something else that had his heart skip a beat.

"FENRIR!"

It was his cub, in danger, no doubt, from one of the forest wolves. He took off, and ran stealthily towards where he thought the sound had come from.

"FEN..."

The fact that his pup had been cut off did nothing to ease his racing mind. He pumped his legs faster and was motivated by the sound of scuffling getting louder. Finally he found Harry, who was below a grey, muscular wolf. Fenrir snarled angrily and covered the distance between himself and the wolf in two vast strides. He wrapped his broad arms underneath the wolf's belly and heaved it off his mate, before grabbing the thrashing head in his two hands and twisting it sharply to the side, cracking the neck fatally. The wolf whimpered pitifully and moved no more. Fenrir chucked it to the side carelessly and hurried over to Harry, who was bleeding a dangerous amount.

Two cloudy green eyes stared up at him and the red lips moved to form the word, "F-Fen...rir..." before Harry's head lolled to the side and his eyes closed jadedly.

Fenrir rushed over to Harry's side and looked at the bite marks that adorned his arm. Luckily the wolf hadn't torn the flesh apart, only sunk its teeth in several times to get a taster first. With a sickening epiphany he realised that, if he wanted to save his cub, he would have to use the only healing tool a werewolf owns; saliva.

He brought Harry's limp arm up to his mouth where he lapped the blood up. The metallic, irony taste of his mate's blood was almost too much to resist – it was so deliciously raw and succulent – but he knew what he had to do. He gathered as much spit in his mouth as possible and licked over the open wounds that decorated the boy's arm. As soon as his spittle touched the lesions they began to close up, leaving them as white scars.

"That's the best I can do, pup," Fenrir muttered, and scooped Harry into his arms. He walked back with a brisk pace, not wanting to run in case the jerky movements made Harry even dizzier than the loss of blood had made him.

Once he reached his cave he realised he didn't have anywhere comfortable for Harry to lie. What could he use as a bed? Fenrir only slept on the floor or on the grass if it was too hot... Oh, how he hated human needs. However, for some reason Harry was an exception. He gently laid the unconscious boy onto the floor before getting up and rushing back to the place where he had flung the wolf.

Fur was better than nothing.

*FG-HP*

"Mmm," mumbled Harry. He was half asleep but he could feel something so delightfully soft beneath him that he stretched and rubbed his cheek on the soft material, revelling in the warmth and cosiness it brought him.

"You like it, pup?" asked a familiar voice.

Harry opened his eyes and he looked around for the man. Upon finding Fenrir – who was sat on the ground leaning against a rock, wearing tattered denim shorts – he blushed. He'd completely forgotten that he was with Fenrir so had taken no shame in voicing his pleasure at the softness beneath him.

"Yeah, it's... nice," he said awkwardly.

"I'll have to kill more wolves for you then," Fenrir said, his eyes glinting with mirth.

Harry's own eyes widened in fear and disbelief.

"You mean to say... this is the w–"

"...wolf who tried to kill you?" Fenrir finished. "Yep, that's the one."

Harry scrambled off the wolf skin and looked down at it in horror. It was the same grey colour as the wolf that had attacked him. Plus, underneath it were hundreds of leaves for a make-do mattress.

"You... skinned it?" Harry asked weakly.

"You're welcome," the man said, waving an arm casually. "Now, I believe you haven't eaten for a day or so. Come and have dinner."

"Dinner?" Harry exclaimed. "What time is it?"

"You were out cold the whole day, pup," Fenrir said as he hoisted himself up and made for the fire that was burning a few feet ahead. "It's evening. Now, I've cooked yours. I know you humans don't eat raw meat."

"Oh," Harry said, blinking owlishly in surprise. "Wow, thanks."

He followed Fenrir to the burning fire and found two halves of some sort of animal, one of the halves cooked and cut up, the other rare and whole.

"What type of animal-?"

"You don't need to know," Fenrir said, who was sat down already with his mouth full. "Trust me, it's easier to eat when you don't know what it is."

"Okay..." Harry wasn't too sure about that theory, but he took a piece of the cut up animal nonetheless and tore a chunk off with his teeth. He found it was chewy, but in a good way. Plus the flavour wasn't so different from that of beef so Harry had no trouble in gobbling it down.

They ate in silence; the only noises were the sound of meat being pulled apart and the sound of chewing and swallowing.

Finally Harry stopped eating. He still had half of his half of the animal left, but he was absolutely stuffed. He looked up at the man and saw he had blood all around his mouth. However, he decided to not say anything. He doubted Fenrir would bother to clean it off anyway.

Instead he said, "Thanks for dinner."

Fenrir grunted and got up, heading further back into the cave. During dinner he hadn't spoken much, but that was because he had been thinking. Tomorrow was the night of the new moon and he hadn't told Harry yet. He decided to leave it until the morning; he was tired now, and wanted some sleep. Plus, the inevitability of tomorrow would hang over Harry like a dark cloud and the boy probably wouldn't be able to get any sleep.

"Night, kid," he mumbled, and found the rock he used to lay his head on.

Harry watched the man as he attempted to get comfy. He wondered if Fenrir was so against human methods that he wouldn't want to share the wolf skin with him. For some reason Harry wanted Fenrir with him tonight. He wanted something but he didn't know what...

He padded over to the man and said nervously, "Um... Fenrir?"

"Mmm."

"Do you want to... share the bed?"

Fenrir turned over and stared at Harry.

"I don't need a bed, thanks."

"But... would you share it? With me? Just for tonight?"

Fenrir looked at the boy sceptically.

"I... guess I could," he said warily, wondering if Harry was jesting with him. But the boy merely walked over to his homemade bed and waited shyly.

So, realising Harry was being serious he joined him. He took up most of the room and was surprised Harry didn't kick him out.

"This is cosy," he said, leering. They were both on their sides facing each other and it was so tempting not to lean in and taste those sweet lips.

"Yeah, I guess it is," Harry whispered, his cool breath brushing against Fenrir's face.

"Well... night, cub," Fenrir muttered, and – not caring what Harry did – wrapped an arm over Harry's waist and pulled him closer so their chests were flush.

"Night, Fenrir," Harry said softly, and realised that, what he'd wanted before was to be held in the arms of his mate. He didn't know how or why, but he was falling for the man, and fast.

**

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**A/N: **

**#1. Yes, I got the idea of Fenrir using a rock as a pillow from Spongebob Squarepants.**

**#2. No, I don't know if stag tastes like chicken, having never eaten either of them before in my life.**

**:)**


	11. Tasting vs Kissing

**Okay, you know what? I'm going to stop saying I'll try and have the next chapter up sooner, because clearly I am uncapable of doing so. I'm so sorry for this extra long wait but I've been stupidly busy with one thing and another. I think it's safe to say that you can expect one chapter per month seeing as that's the rate I'm going at DX**

**Oh yeah, big thanks to the reviewers! I never knew deer/stag meat was so popular until now O.o Now I know what it tastes like so thanks :D**

**Anyway, here's chapter 11 and I hope you'll forgive my lateness :( **

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Tasting vs Kissing

Remus walked down the stone steps to the Great Hall. His hair was a mess, he had dark rings under his eyes from lack of sleep, and his robes were torn and ragged, not to mention his face was covered in scars, a reminder from the full moon. Last night hadn't been the best transformation; he'd taken the Wolfsbane potion but he'd had this animalistic urge which made him want to find Greyback and rip his throat out. He'd managed to numb that compulsion by locking himself in the shrieking shack where he took his anger out on himself – unfortunately the result was that his face was more marred than usual.

By now the whole school knew about Harry and Greyback and how he'd gone missing. Although, these were mainly rumours, no one knew the whole story apart from Ron and Hermione.

He took a deep breath before entering the Great Hall, making his way up to the teachers table and sitting next to Professor McGonagall.

"Oh, Remus, you poor thing," she said softly, eyeing his appearance.

"It's nothing," he said dismissively.

"I highly doubt that," she retorted. "What happened? It's never been this bad before."

"It's... it's confusing," he said weakly. "Usually, after I take the Wolfsbane potion, my mind is my own. However, last night, I found that one impulse still remained."

McGonagall looked on with wide eyes.

"It was the urge to kill," he croaked. "I wanted to kill Fenrir Greyback for taking away my best friend's son. Minerva, I wanted his blood, I wanted to rip that beast apart."

The Headmistress stared at Remus, her lips pressed into a tight line.

"Remus, I'm sure that's natural. You love him, as do we all, and I think we all would like to see that creature dead for taking Potter away. What you felt last night was probably your own emotions heightened by the full moon."

Remus sighed and pinched his nose.

"I don't know what to do," he muttered. "It's been three days since Greyback took Harry and I've done nothing to help get him back!"

"There's not much we can do if Potter is unwilling to come home to us," she said sadly.

"It's the damn mating instinct that's clogging up his mind!" Remus growled angrily. "If... if Fenrir was out of the picture we'd have our Harry home."

"Remus, you can't possibly be thinking of going after that beast," whispered Minerva. "That would be most unwise."

Remus didn't say anything. There was no way he would let Greyback keep Harry. Merlin knows what the man had already done to the boy.

*FG-HP*

Fenrir woke up early the next morning, and found his arm was still draped over Harry's narrow hip. He squirmed away, not liking the schmaltziness the gesture portrayed. Luckily the boy was still asleep, naturally, seeing as it was most probably only daybreak. There was a soft pinky-yellow glow that shone through the entrance of the cave and Fenrir smiled contentedly; he did love the dawn.

His cub stirred in his sleep and he turned to look at the boy. As he stared he couldn't help but feel some sort of... affection was it? Immediately he shook his head; this boy was his _mate_, his life partner forced upon by the mother moon, nothing more. Although, try as he might, he couldn't compel himself to think of Harry as a burden or an intruder in his life; he was beginning to care for the kid for some mad reason. He then remembered that tonight was the new moon – or the mating moon as he thought of it as. He had to tell Potter this soon, or he was sure the boy would shout at him for leaving the news so late. He decided to prepare a breakfast to put Harry in a good mood.

He stood up and walked to the leftovers of the stag and examined a few pieces before deciding it was most probably edible. It was a little dried out but he was sure it would taste fine.

He made his way back over to Harry and knelt beside the boy.

"Oi, pup, wake up," he growled softly. Harry didn't rouse; instead he just snuggled further into the make-do bed. Fenrir grimaced – he wasn't too good with affection, so he tapped Harry's cheek lightly. The boy flinched and frowned before his eyes opened slowly.

"Awake at last," Fenrir muttered. "Listen, I need to talk to you about something."

Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up. He'd forgotten he'd asked Fenrir to sleep with him last night, and now he couldn't quite believe he'd done such a thing. Why did he ask that?

"Oh, what about?" he said, his voice croaky from sleep.

"Come and have breakfast and I'll tell you."

Fenrir retreated back to the food, Harry following him sleepily, noticing that he was still only in his underwear. Fenrir, however, had graced himself with some tattered denim shorts.

"Tuck in," Fenrir ordered, once they were sat around the dried out stag.

"Is this from last night?" Harry asked nervously, picking up a streak of arid animal. He held it away from his face, his nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Fenrir asked quietly. He'd told Harry that living in the forest would mean eating anything you can get your hands on, but now he was feeling guilty. Should he find something else?

"No, it's okay," said Harry quickly, though Fenrir could see in the kid's eyes that it obviously wasn't.

He stood up abruptly and made for the forest.

"Where are you going?" Harry called.

"I'll be back in two minutes, just eat your food."

Harry watched Fenrir until he disappeared amongst the trees in the forest. He hoped he hadn't offended him. Maybe he should be more grateful; after all, old food was better than no food, right?

He picked up one of the pieces of meat and nibbled on it. He was surprised that it didn't taste all that bad. In fact, it was almost better than last night, dried out like this. Obviously the warm summer air and evening sunshine had done it some good, making the food taste a little like beef jerky.

Fenrir returned a few minutes later, his arms carrying – what looked like – fruit. The man dumped it unceremoniously on the floor beside Harry before going back to his meat, stuffing several pieces in his mouth greedily.

Harry just stared at what Fenrir had done. Was the fruit for him, or was Fenrir planning on using it in a trap for an animal of some kind?

Not wanting to be rude, Harry continued to gnaw on his jerky until Fenrir would give him the go ahead to eat the succulent-looking fruit.

They ate in silence for what had to have been two long minutes before Fenrir spoke.

"Now listen here, pup," he said suddenly, startling Harry out of the silent meal. "I go out and get you some of that disgusting fruit and you ignore it?"

"I didn't know it was for me," Harry said with a shrug.

Fenrir snorted. "Pfft, you think I'd eat some of that squishy, health food?"

"Well I don't know!" Harry bit back defensively. "You didn't tell me it was for me."

Fenrir huffed and stuffed a large amount of the desiccated animal into his mouth.

"What is this meat anyway?" Harry asked, examining a piece before gnawing at it some more.

"Stag," Fenrir said casually, picking at his teeth.

Harry felt his stomach churn unpleasantly. He was forced to swallow the chewed up meat in his mouth as he didn't particularly feel like spitting it out.

"St-stag," he repeated softly after the food slid down his throat. An image of his Patronus popped into his mind, followed by a man with messy black hair and glasses.

He stood up clumsily and stumbled over to the nearest bush before emptying the contents of his stomach into the green leaves. The fact that he'd just devoured such a meaningful, not to mention beautiful, animal had made his belly quite upset.

After he was finished heaving up his breakfast – and yesterday's dinner – he wiped his mouth with the back of his shaking hand and took several deep breaths.

"Well there's gratitude for you," said a voice in his ear. Harry jumped and hiccupped at the same time before whipping round to face the man. "What's wrong with you, pup?"

"I... I can't eat stag," he said, knowing it was a silly thing to say seeing as he'd been fine last night.

Fenrir raised his eyebrows but didn't question it. "Good job I fetched that fruit for you then, eh?"

Harry nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose seeing as they'd slipped down a little from where he'd bent over to hurl.

"Have some of that mangy fruit; that should get rid of the taste," Fenrir said. He placed his hand on the back of Harry's neck and guided him back to their eating spot. Harry took a pear and started to munch on it. Luckily enough, after several mouthfuls, the acidic taste of vomit had disappeared from his mouth, instead replaced with the luscious, juicy taste of pears. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Fenrir had watched on with a disgusted look on his face. Fruit looked so... unappetising and downright _weird_.

"C'mon, I need to talk to you," he said gruffly. Not wanting to keep Harry near the stag meat any longer than necessary he stood up and made his way into the cave. He kept walking until he reached the bed. Once there he waited for Harry to join him before he began his... lecture.

"Right... Well, I presume you know that at some point we need to... mate, right?" he said when they were both seated comfortably. Fenrir would have very much liked to have avoided this conversation, but his cub needed to know.

Harry nodded.

"And you remember I told you that we would have to mate on the night of the new moon?"

Again, Harry nodded.

"Do you know much about moon cycles, kid?" Fenrir asked. Yes, he knew he was dragging it out, but he dreaded the moment when he would have to tell Harry that they would be fucking _tonight._

"I... I learnt about it in Divination once," Harry said, thinking back to the lesson where Trelawny had told them what to expect on each cycle of the moon, but – as was the case with all of her lessons – none of the information stuck.

"Do you remember when the new moon is?" Harry shook his head. "Well, in the Muggle world its two weeks after the full moon. For werewolves and wizards... well, it's two _nights_ after the full moon."

Harry blinked a few times and he felt his heartbeat speed up.

"I... I see," he said hoarsely, before clearing his throat. "And... the full moon was... two nights ago."

"Yeah."

Harry felt his brain go hazy. He wasn't ready for this whatsoever!

Fenrir watched as Harry's facial expressions changed, from that of understanding, to fear. Maybe if they'd done more intimate stuff already, the boy would be more prepared.

"Not gonna be sick again, are you?" Fenrir asked, smirking.

"No, I'm fine, thanks," Harry said, his face deadpan.

Fenrir crawled over to Harry.

"You'll like it, you know," the man whispered in his ear. "The mating, I guarantee you'll enjoy it. It'll feel like the best god-damn thing on earth." He shimmied even closer to Harry. "Let me show you how good I can make you feel."

That wouldn't be hard; it was what Fenrir had wanted from the very beginning, to touch this body and to see it squirming in pleasure. It was only when it came to showing true love and affection that he struggled, which was why he was nervous about tonight. The mating had to be done in some sort of love.

Harry pushed half-heartedly at Fenrir's chest as he ran his rough hands over Harry's thigh. "I don't know," he said softly, edging away.

"Don't know what," murmured Fenrir. He pushed Harry down lightly so his pup was lying on the floor and he positioned himself over the boy.

"I still don't know what I want," Harry muttered, resting his hands on Fenrir's biceps for want of a better place to put them.

"You can't possibly tell me you don't want this after what you asked of me last night, pup," said Fenrir with a wicked grin.

"Last night I wasn't thinking!" Harry implored, though he knew that was a lie. "I don't know why I asked that!"

"Because you want me, cub; you want to be with me. I know you do, because I can feel the pull to you as well. Don't fight it or the moon won't be happy."

Harry snorted. "What the hell do you mean, _the moon won't be happy_?" he asked sceptically. "It's a moon! It doesn't have feelings." Although he said this, Harry wasn't sure if that was completely true; there were still so many things he didn't know about the Wizarding world, let alone the ways of the werewolf.

"Oho, it can be bad when it wants to," Fenrir whispered. "It can mess with your mind if it wishes."

Harry stared at Fenrir gormlessly. "But I'm not a werewolf."

"No. You are a werewolf's mate."

"So?"

"_So_, after tonight, after the bonding, the moon will be able to affect you much more. After we mate, you will be halfway to becoming a werewolf. The bite will complete it. Then the moon can control you how it wants."

Harry didn't know what to think. He knew he wanted to give Fenrir the chance to a life with more freedom, but when Fenrir had mentioned the bite... Harry shuddered.

"Does it hurt?" he whispered. "Getting bitten?"

"It would hurt if I bit you at any random time, for instance now," he said with a feral grin; Harry flinched. "But I have a feeling the pain would be less were I to bite you during... tonight."

"But... don't you have to be in wolf form to bite?" Harry asked feeling thoroughly confused. He was _not _having sex with a wolf.

"And I will be in wolf form. _Afterwards, _kid, don't worry_._ Anyway,once we've mated I'll be able change when I want, remember?" the man said. "So, seeing as I'll bite you straight after our shag you shouldn't be in too much pain."

Harry grimaced at the word 'shag' and gulped comically. "I'm scared."

Fenrir gave a low chuckle. "Don't be, cub. Just think how free you'll feel afterwards, when you're like me. When we're _both_ free wolves... Now let me taste those lips again."

Harry turned his head to the side before Fenrir could touch him.

"Must you call it that?" he asked. He'd noticed that the last time Fenrir wanted a kiss he'd asked to 'taste his lips'.

Fenrir furrowed his brow. "What?"

"'Tasting'," said Harry. "It sounds so... animalistic."

"But... that's what I'm doing." Now Fenrir was confused. Why was the boy questioning his way of tasting? Sure, some wolves lick the neck or wrist or thigh, but Fenrir found that most of the taste was on the mouth.

"That's called kissing," Harry said. "Not _tasting_."

"Kissing? Pa! That's for humans," Fenrir said with a snort.

"But your so-called tasting is exactly the same as kissing!" Harry said with a grin.

"Is not," the man said grumpily. "_This_ is tasting..."

And he closed the gap between his and Harry's face, his tongue creeping through Harry's startled lips to lap at the boy's smaller tongue. Gods, his cub tasted _good. _

Harry could feel the man's stubble rubbing against his chin but he found he didn't care all that much; the sensation of Fenrir's forceful tongue in his mouth was making him shiver in pleasure. Finally the man pulled away and Harry wiped his mouth instinctively.

"Now, pup, you show me what_ kissing_ is," Fenrir said with a glint in his eye.

"What?" Harry squeaked.

"Come on, give me one of your human kisses."

"No!"

Fenrir leered. "Why not? I bet you've got a good little mouth on you."

Harry stared at Fenrir with wide eyes, quite abashed.

"Go on, show me how different kisses are."

Knowing that if he didn't give in, Fenrir would get his way anyway, Harry sighed and, quite unsure of what he was doing, leant up to meet the man's lips. He lightly pressed his lips to the ones above him, one hand travelling to the back of Fenrir's head where he combed through the strands of matted hair instinctively. Throughout the kiss Fenrir kept his eyes wide open, slightly startled at the gentleness of this supposed _kiss._

He pulled away softly and stared down at his pup, who was blushing furiously.

"I told you so," Fenrir said nonchalantly.

"What?" Harry said outraged, embarrassment forgotten. "Told me what?"

"They're completely different. I didn't even get a taste of your mouth that time."

Harry frowned. "So they're kind of different. But some kisses involve... tongues."

Fenrir raised his eyebrows and tried to hide a grin. "Show me."

"No, no, that's enough, let me up," he whined, and tried to sit up, but was unable to seeing as Fenrir was still over him.

"C'mon, Harry, prove me wrong; show me tasting and kissing are the same thing."

Harry frowned when the man called him by his first name, but, nonetheless, leant up to Fenrir with more force and pressed his lips against the man's before poking his tongue through his lips and into the other's mouth. As soon as his naive little tongue had entered Fenrir's mouth, Fenrir's tongue had instantly started to lick, push and wrap around Harry's.

Hurriedly he pulled away.

"I thought _I_ was supposed to show you!" he growled.

"You did, you won the argument, now let me tas– _kiss _you," Fenrir said. He licked up Harry's throat before reaching the boy's mouth.

Harry squirmed at the feeling of the hot wet tongue on his exposed neck and arched his head back. Then that rough mouth was back on his _again_, and that familiar tongue was inside his mouth _again_. This time, however, Fenrir wasn't as demanding; one of his hands ran through Harry's hair, while the other was pressed on Harry's chest.

Harry groaned deeply in his throat and brought his hand up to caress Fenrir's head once more. This must have been the first intimacy they had really shared together. When that surprisingly tender kiss was over Harry didn't remove his hand from the back of the man's head, nor did the man remove his hands from Harry's head or chest.

"I'm never doing anything like that again," Fenrir said flatly.

Harry frowned. "Like what?"

"That mushy, human stuff..." Fenrir sneered. "It's not me."

Harry let his hand drop and – once again – he tried to sit up. This time Fenrir allowed him to, though he didn't move all that far away from him.

"Then what is?" Harry asked bitterly. "Rough, dirty, wild, passionate sex, right?"

"Pretty much," Fenrir said, causing Harry to wince at the thought. "But don't worry pup, I'll go easy on you tonight."

*FG-HP*

Remus was pacing in his bed chamber when McGonagall and Moody arrived.

"You're mad, Lupin!" roared Alastor as soon as the door slammed shut. "Minerva told me everything! You can't go after that brute!"

Remus stopped his pacing and turned to the old Auror.

"I can, I have to, and I will," he said shortly, before pacing again.

"Remus, please," begged Minerva. "This is reckless! Sirius and James wouldn't want you to risk your life!"

Again, Remus stopped pacing.

"Sirius and James? You mean Harry's godfather and father?" he asked quietly. "Do you think they'd want Harry to be stuck in some mangy old cave with Fenrir Greyback?"

"N-no! Never!" she whispered. "But think, if Potter didn't choose to stay here, then surely he must be reasonably contented there? Besides, Fenrir couldn't hurt the boy if he's his mate."

"You're missing the point entirely, Minerva!" Remus cried, and the woman flinched. "I know Harry wants to stay up there, I know Fenrir can't hurt him, but it's Harry's future I'm worried about! He could be so much more than a... a... a beast!"

He flung himself into a seat and ran his hands through his hair shakily.

"Now listen here," McGonagall said firmly. "I know you dislike being a werewolf, but what if Harry _chooses_ to embrace it? If it's what he really wants, and if he's happy, do we have the right to rip that from him?"

Remus looked up at McGonagall through heavily lidded eyes.

"Minerva, tonight is the new moon. Do you know what that means?"

She shook her head.

"The new moon is also known as the mating moon. I trust you know understand what I mean by that."

Minerva's eyes widened dramatically. "The... the mating moon? As in –"

"Yes, precisely that," Remus said hurriedly. "And more, in fact. Harry will be bitten tonight. After that... it's going to be even harder to get him back."

The Headmistress walked over to Remus and squeezed his shoulder. "I don't know what to do, Remus."

He sighed. "I don't know either. I just want Harry back."

*FG-HP*

"You're pathetic," Fenrir said, as he watched Harry try to throw his hand-made spear once again.

"Am not!" snarled Harry. "I just... I can't throw very well is all."

"Clearly," the man said with a chuckle. He stepped behind the boy, determined to help him get it right. "Look here, pull your arm back but keep this –" he squeezed Harry's right bicep "– straight. Then you pull the forearm back... that's it... all the way now, and... _throw!_"

Harry hurled the spear through the air and it landed about thirty feet away where the pointed stone head collided with an old oak tree.

"Better, much better," Fenrir muttered and Harry bounced happily on the balls of his feet.

"So can we stop now, please?" he asked. He hadn't wanted to do this anyway, but Fenrir had insisted he needed to learn basic survivor skills if he were to live in the forest.

"I suppose," the man said with a yawn. He collected his spear and they trudged back to the cave.

When they got back there were a few pieces of the stag left for Fenrir's dinner, but nothing for Harry apart from the fruit.

"Its fine!" assured the boy when Fenrir had asked if he wanted anything else. "I'd much rather eat fruit than... _that_." He nodded towards the pile of stag meat.

"Good," said Fenrir, voice muffled from the huge chunk of dried stag already in his mouth.

They sat in silence for the good part of the meal, the only sounds being the chewing noises issuing from Fenrir's mouth, or the occasional crunch of an apple or pear from Harry's bites.

"Um, Fenrir?" said Harry timidly when he'd finished his food. "What... how do you know when... when we have to..."

"How do I know when it's fucking time?"

Harry scowled but nodded nonetheless.

"Once the sun disappears completely," he said, leaning back on his elbows lazily and closing his eyes lightly.

Harry looked to the sky. It was getting dim but the sun was still out, casting an orange light over the forest.

"Where are... where are we going to, you know... _do it_?" Harry's face turned a deep shade of crimson as he asked this.

"Wherever you like," muttered Fenrir, who seemed very much unbothered by the situation. "In the lake, on the grass, in a tree –"

"Wh... but... In a t-tree?" spluttered Harry.

Fenrir opened his eyes and stared at his pup. "Where do you want to be?"

"Well, I was thinking... in the bed," he suggested coyly.

"Typical human," he said with a sigh. "Okay, if that's what you really want."

Harry pulled his legs up to his chest where he wrapped his arms round them. It was bizarre how casually they were talking about where they were going to have their first – as Fenrir would put it – _shag_. But Harry realised that talking about it this indifferently made it a lot easier to deal with; it made the situation seem less daunting. There was one question Harry had been dying to ask, however. It was a thoroughly horrible thought but it needed to be voiced.

"One more thing," Harry said, his blush creeping back. "Will you... will you use lubricant?"

Fenrir raised one thick eyebrow and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes!" said Harry immediately.

"Then I will."

Harry felt much more relieved after asking that.

"Come join me, cub," called Fenrir, who was lying on the ground, arms behind his head and his eyes closed. Harry got up and ambled over to the man. He sat beside Fenrir and looked at the man's peaceful face. There was a strange but certain rugged beauty to the man. His unkemptness seemed to compliment the man's features: the stubble round the chiselled jaw, the rough, firm lips, the scarred yet longish nose, and the two amber eyes... the two amber eyes that were staring straight at him. Hurriedly he looked away, mortified to have been caught staring at the man with so much... _fondness._

"So... Am I one for the looks?" came the gravelly voice right beside Harry's ear. He looked back to the man to discover he was extremely close to him, his head nearly resting on Harry's shoulder.

"You're not bad," said Harry, his voice a pitch higher than usual. He yelped when he felt the man's teeth nibble on the shell of his ear.

"Mmm, lie down, pup." Fenrir wrapped his arms round Harry's waist and pulled the lightweight boy on top of him. Harry didn't struggle; it turned out Fenrir's chest was quite comfortable. The chest hair was surprisingly soft.

"Why don't you take a nap," Fenrir mumbled. "I'll call you when it's time."

Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to sleep; when he next woke up he would have to lose his virginity. "I'm not sleepy."

"Trust me; it'll do you some good," Fenrir said through a yawn. "Gonna need your energy later, aren't you?"

Harry swallowed nervously. "Okay," he whispered and attempted to sleep.

*FG-HP*

All day long Remus couldn't stop fidgeting. The fact that it was the new moon and he was doing nothing to prevent Greyback mating with Harry was driving him mad. He knew he shouldn't interfere, seeing how strong moon magic is, but the idea of Harry being mated to someone like Greyback was making him feel sick to the stomach.

He sighed and, after much thought and deliberation came to the conclusion that interfering tonight during the mating moon would be exceedingly reckless. So, as much as it pained him to think it, he would have to try and get Harry back after he was changed. Yes, it would be harder, but surely if... if Fenrir was out of the picture Harry would want to come home?

In all honesty this was Remus' desperation getting to him. He wanted Harry to be back with him, safe under his watchful eye and free to live a life without the cares and worries of the full moon. And, if that meant killing the man who had taken Harry away then so be it.

* * *

**Thanks to Assassin of the Shaddows for the idea of stag jerky :P**

**Some of you may be thinking WTF at the new moon timing being different to the normal 2 weeks. Well, that is a result of my bad timing in fics. So, since the world of Harry Potter is full of magic and wonderment, I thought that the new moon could be two days after the full, not 2 weeks. Why? Because anything's possible! :D**

**Thanks peoples :)**

**xxx**


	12. Mating Under the New Moon

**Apologies for the super lateness.**

**I hope this makes up for it? o.O**

**x**

* * *

Mating Under the New Moon

"Wake up, pup," muttered a heated voice in Harry's ear. The first thing Harry realised was that he was no longer on Fenrir's chest, but on the grass. Harry opened his eyes immediately and looked up to find Fenrir's face looming above his; he didn't look too pleased.

"You sleep like the dead," the man groused. "Been trying to wake you for ages. Now come on, the moon's out. We have to start."

Harry didn't say anything. He just sat up slowly and tried to control his breathing at the thought of what was to come.

"Give me a moment," Harry whispered after a long silence.

"There's no time, c'mon," said Fenrir gruffly. He hoisted Harry up from the grass before turning and disappearing into the cave.

Harry glanced up at the sky and gazed at the near-invisible slither of moon that was watching over the forest. What would the mating really be like? Would it hurt or would he enjoy it? Fenrir had said he would love it, but was that just to quell Harry's fear? He shivered slightly and, with a heavy sigh, walked determinedly into the cave. When he reached the make-do bed he stopped and looked around for the naked man.

"Uh, Fenrir?" he called nervously.

"Mmm, I like the way you say my name," whispered a voice in his ear.

Harry jumped violently but, before he could turn round to face his mate, Fenrir had wrapped one arm around Harry's waist, the other firmly yet tenderly clasped over his throat. His mouth latched onto Harry's neck, sucking harshly. Harry squirmed and shivered and he felt his knees buckle at the pleasure that was being inflicted around his neck area. Vaguely Harry felt himself being guided toward the bed and was gently pushed down so he was laying on his front. Clearly Fenrir wasn't going to hang about.

"What a pretty body my cub has," murmured Fenrir, who was leaning over Harry's bare back now. Wasting no time, he licked a long trail up and down the boy's spine before grating his teeth between the boy's sharp shoulder blades. Again Harry gave one of his shudders and Fenrir smirked; this boy was so obviously untouched it was adorable.

"Do you like my tongue, boy?" he growled, and licked just above the seam of Harry's underwear.

Harry groaned and he felt his cock twitch at the sensual pleasures being inflicted on his back.

"Was that a yes?" Fenrir pushed. "I'll continue if you say yes."

Harry buried his face in the fur beneath him. If he said no Fenrir would stop, and Harry didn't want that whatsoever seeing as the next part would be the actual mating. But saying yes, what would that make him? A loyal mate or a desperate, sexually-deprived animal?

"Answer me, pup," Fenrir ordered, and his tongue poked underneath Harry's underwear, licking along the top of his cleft. It was such a strange but pleasurable feeling that Harry realised he truly wanted more.

"Hahhh... Yesss, please," he mewled.

"Good." A loud ripping sound made Harry jump and he realised – from the feeling of cool air hitting his bum cheeks – that Fenrir had torn his underwear.

At the sight of the two pale globes, Fenrir felt his cock ache even more. He grabbed them with his rough hands and squeezed hard, which brought a whimper to Harry's mouth. He licked his lips before croaking out, "On your knees, pup, c'mon, get up."

Shakily the boy pushed himself up so he was kneeling, his ass waggling shamelessly in the air.

"Mmm, fuck," muttered Fenrir, slapping one of the soft round cheeks playfully. Then, unable to hold back any longer, he licked all the way down through the boy's cleft.

"AH!" cried Harry. Never,_ ever_ had he experienced anything that felt so good. Since when was his ass so sensitive?

Fenrir lapped at the boy's cleft, his tongue licking every crevice he could reach; after all, the spit was going to be the only lubricant the boy was getting, due to the healing powers it possessed. After his fair share of licking Harry's ass, he rolled onto his back and slid underneath the boy's crotch. Now he was gazing up at his cub's cock, which was stiff and dripping with pre-cum, practically begging Fenrir to take it into his mouth. Eagerly, he pulled it down and into his mouth where he sucked at it hungrily.

"Oh," said Harry softly, his legs shaking threateningly beneath him as he felt a warm, deep, moist cavern enclose round his aching member. "F-Fenrir..."

Fenrir growled around the cock in his mouth – he fucking _loved _hearing his cub say his name – and continued to suck at the cock, hoping it would make Potter cry out his name again.

Harry groaned at the sensation of the rumbling feeling round his cock and he unconsciously bucked his hips further into Fenrir's mouth. He could feel his face burning at the wanton sounds that were escaping his lips, not to mention the shameful movements his body was making. When Fenrir slid out from beneath him and the cool air hit his exposed cock, he let out a whine that he had convinced himself was not to do with the loss he felt. Fenrir wasn't fooled though.

"You like my mouth, don't you?" he said huskily. "You like feeling my tongue around your cock and up your ass, hmm?"

_No,_ was what Harry wanted to say. _Saying yes would make you sound like a... a whore, for Merlin's sake!_

_But that warm, wet feeling round his most sensitive areas... it had felt so good... so right..._

"YES! Please, Fenrir, yes!" he sobbed out pitifully, hating himself for sounding so pathetic.

"Good, because you're gonna need my mouth more than ever now," Fenrir whispered. "My spit's the only lube you're gonna get." He was growing impatient, as was his leaking cock. Without any further ado, he gathered a pool of spit in his mouth before spitting directly at his cub's pucker.

Harry let out another groan and writhed at the wetness round his hole. He was quite scared that the only thing to ease Fenrir's penetration was going to be the man's saliva, but for some reason a part of him told him not to worry, that Fenrir would take care of him.

With one hand Fenrir stroked his neglected shaft, whilst with the other he pressed a finger to the boy's entrance and spat on the hole one last time before pushing his finger in slowly. He heard his pup grunt at the invasion but he didn't stop; that wouldn't ease the penetration at all. He just pushed his finger in further before stopping and letting the boy adjust to having something in his ass. After Harry had stopped his fidgeting and mumbling, Fenrir wriggled the finger around and, while doing so, he felt just exactly how tight the boy was. Hazily and mentally he thanked the moon for blessing him with a virgin mate.

Harry was holding in his choked cries; the feeling of Fenrir's finger inside of him was strange. It had hurt at first when the thick finger had breached his ring of muscle, especially when the man's sharp nails grated at his walls, but now it just felt... odd, particularly when the man moved his finger that little bit deeper inside. However, before Harry could think another thought, he felt another finger forcing its way in. This time it hurt a hell of a lot more and he couldn't help but let out a whimper of discomfort as his hole was stretched. Fenrir must have known what that meant because the next thing Harry felt were the two fingers being removed – which burnt like _hell _– before more spit was slapped on round his hole. Again there was the feeling of the fingers worming their way inside, but – thank Merlin – this time it didn't hurt as much, what with the added 'lubricant'.

After getting a second finger into the boy's tight ass Fenrir scissored them slightly, hoping to stretch the firm hole as softly as possible. His make-do lube must really be working, for Harry didn't cry out when he stretched them further. The only time a noise escaped Harry's mouth was when Fenrir pushed his fingers in further where he must have brushed against the heavenly bundle of nerves that made up Harry's prostate.

"Gods!" Harry breathed, as something brilliant sparked inside him. What the hell was that? He didn't have time to think on it as Fenrir pushed his fingers further in and that beautiful feeling deep inside him was lit up again.

Fenrir grinned toothily as he felt Harry shake when his fingers found Harry's g-spot. "Mmm, first you like my mouth, now my fingers?" he purred.

Harry didn't really hear the man; he just knew that he wanted that feeling again so, involuntarily, he threw his hips back into Fenrir's hand.

Now that the pain and discomfort had obviously subsided, Fenrir felt more confident in moving his fingers around in the boy's ass. So, when he felt Harry move backwards into his fingers, he pushed them forwards even more before pulling them back, and pushing back in again. He continued to fuck Harry with his fingers until the boy was sweating and trembling all over. He loved the sight before him, his pup in heat from mere fingers, but he knew if he continued Harry would probably get too close to the edge and cum there and then. No, he wanted Harry's first orgasm to be from his cock buried inside the boy.

He pulled his fingers out and placed his rock hard cock over Harry's crack, where he slowly started to rut, sliding his dick through the line dividing the two cheeks. He panted, feeling much like the animal in heat he was.

Harry shuddered at the feeling of the man's member sliding in between his crack, but he kept his lips pressed together tightly; he didn't trust himself to open his mouth in case some sort of embarrassing, deprived noise would escape. What was this man turning him into?

Finally Fenrir stopped his rutting; he didn't want to cum yet and he was very nearly on the edge. No, now it was time for the real mating to begin.

"I'm gonna enter you in a bit," Fenrir said huskily as he leant over Harry's back so he could talk into Harry's ear. "Got that, cub?"

Harry grimaced and held in a sob. That thought was terrifying. "Uh huh," he panted, his hair dripping with sweat. Fenrir reached over the boy's head and pushed the hair back off his forehead, before his hand travelled down to Harry's mouth.

"Suck on my fingers," he demanded. Harry was hesitant to comply but when the thick fingers brushed his lips he had no choice but to let them into his mouth. He then wrapped his tongue around them, caressing the pads of the man's chunky fingers and coating them with his saliva. He continued to lap at them before Fenrir pulled them out, bringing a string of saliva out from Harry's mouth in the process. Harry cringed; what must he look like?

Fenrir coated his cock with the spit on his fingers from Harry's mouth, before spitting on it with his own lubricant. He then spread Harry's cheeks so the little pucker winked up at him. He pressed himself against the boy's hole and, in one slow thrust, sheathed himself, inch by inch, inside his mate.

Immediately Harry let out a howl of distress; damn, Fenrir's rod was _huge._ Although the spit was preventing most of the pain, he could still feel the walls of his ass stretching uncomfortably as well as his hole being forced apart to allow such a large monster inside.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," he continued to mutter. "P-please, Fen... it hurts..."

Fenrir just about managed to pull himself out from the sated state he was in to hear his pup voicing his pain. So, instead of moving in any further, he stopped, hoping that Harry would adjust to his girth.

"I'll wait for you," Fenrir muttered, wrapping his arms around his little pup's trembling body. "Tell me when to move."

Harry choked on a sob before saying, ever so quietly, "I don't want it."

A minute ago, Harry had felt brilliant; Fenrir's fingers hitting his spot had felt great, but now... now all he could focus on was the feeling of his ass being stretched and his insides being torn.

Fenrir tried to ignore the strange pain in his heart, but hearing his mate claiming to not want _this..._ it pulled at heartstrings he never knew he had. He drew in a deep breath before reaching the decision that he had to get to Harry's prostate soon, or Harry would probably start begging him to stop. So, with half-hearted lust, he pushed further into the boy's unsuspecting ass. Harry cried out even louder than the first time and he sobbed harder. However, the more Fenrir forced his way in, the quieter the cries became. Finally, it seemed that Harry was no longer moaning in pain, but in some sort of pleasure.

"How is it?" Fenrir rasped. "Tell me, cub, I need to know!"

Harry took several deep breaths before gasping out, "Hurts... but good. It's good."

Fenrir let out a sigh of relief before looking at the sight before him. He'd waited so fucking long to see this; Potter on his knees, the pale, naked back exposed to Fenrir with his cock buried deep inside the tight, round little ass... He growled in unadulterated lust before starting to thrust into his cub's virgin hole. The boy gave a high pitched cry but didn't tell Fenrir to stop, so he carried on moving.

The fact that he was the first person to know what Potter's ass felt like made Fenrir swell with pride. He damn well owned the boy now and it was only a matter of time before he would complete his claim. It felt so right being inside his little pup, and the knowledge that it was the new moon and he was mating with his destined mate reminded him this wasn't any old fuck. This was what he'd wanted all of his life, though he'd never really known it. After all, he'd lived a solitary life, keeping no one close to him, making only enemies, so now to have found his mate it changed his outlook on life. Whether it was because of the moon's influence, or because he had genuinely come to care for Potter, he knew that he would look after the boy and let no one come near _his_ mate.

He yowled in pleasure as he thrust deeper into the boy's tense ass. Now he was buried balls-deep and Harry was meeting his thrusts by jerking his hips back.

Harry couldn't control his body; he hated the fact that he must look like some deprived bitch in heat, but that feeling... oh gods that feeling of Fenrir's fat cock hitting _that_ spot over and over again... it was driving him insane. Every time he felt Fenrir pull out, only to push back in again, he felt his adoration for the man grow. Was that the new moon's influence perhaps? Or were the feelings his own? Harry was sure his brain had turned to mush; it was so hard to think straight every time that member slipped inside him.

"How is it now, mon petite?" Fenrir said hoarsely. "Am I hitting the spot for you?"

Harry nodded vigorously and arched his back as Fenrir gave a particular hard thrust that jerked Harry's body forwards. He knew that Fenrir was being rough, he could feel it inside, but at the moment it was so amazing and so right that Harry didn't bother to ask Fenrir to go slower.

Suddenly, Harry gasped as he felt long meaty fingers wrapping around his straining erection.

"Mmm, you're so hard for me, pup," Fenrir whispered, and he squeezed the boys cock. "Tell me when you're going to cum; I want to see your pretty face when you release."

Harry keened as the man attended to his weeping cock and his knees buckled and gave way, leaving Harry to fall flat on his stomach. He didn't have the energy to push himself back up so he stayed where he was.

"Is my little mate tired?" Fenrir murmured, laying his body over Harry's, cock still buried up the boy's hole. "Don't worry, I'll do the work now."

Fenrir interlocked his legs round Harry's, looped his arms under the boy's armpits and started pummelling into the tight hole that was clenching every now and then round his cock.

Harry buried his face in his arms and let out a loud grunt at the sudden change in their positions. Fenrir was heavy as he lay on top of his body, but Harry found he didn't mind; he liked the feeling of Fenrir being so close.

"Mmm, such a good, docile pup... my pup," Fenrir murmured, nuzzling into Harry's neck as he continued to hump Harry's ass; the sound of flesh hitting flesh made Harry cringe.

As Fenrir thrust in and out, Harry's body was moving up and down the tickly fur duvet, and he felt the fibres teasing his cock, building up friction. He could feel the precum sticking to the fur and rubbing off on his belly and he realised, if Fenrir kept up this speed, the fur would most probably rub him to orgasm. He had to tell the man he was close.

"F-Fen," Harry said, his voice muffled slightly.

"What?" barked the man in heat.

"The fur... on my...making me..." He mumbled incoherent, muddled up words, praying Fenrir would understand what he was asking for. "I'm close!"

Suddenly Fenrir sat up – his arms still looped under Harry's armpits – and pulled Harry' up with him so that Harry was sitting upright on Fenrir's lap, the man's cock still inside him. He squirmed and breathed heavily as he felt, now more than ever, the huge shaft that was up his ass.

"Look at the mess you made," Fenrir whispered, obviously amused at the sticky substance over the bed furs. "Look how excited I made you, pup."

He pulled Harry off his cock and laid the boy down on his back, realising how close he was himself. He crawled up the boy's body before straddling the narrow hips. After adding some more spit to his palm and rubbing it over his member, he pulled Harry's long, lean, pale legs up so they were resting on his shoulders and he slowly slid back into Harry's open hole where he began to drive in and out.

"Mmm," he murmured dreamily, and shivered as he felt Harry attempt to push his hips up to meet his thrusts. He took hold of his pup's straining erection and pumped it furiously, forcing some delightful little cries out of the boy's mouth.

"F-F-Fenrir," Harry panted. "I th-think... I think I'm..."

But the boy didn't finish. Before Fenrir knew it, he felt his mate's muscles clench round his own cock and he howled at the feeling. He kept his eyes focused on Harry's beautiful face as the boy came onto his own chest. At the sight and the feelings round his cock, Fenrir realised he wouldn't last much longer. He reminded himself that he would have to try and change into wolf form after he released his seed into the boy's ass so he could complete the mating and bite his cub while Harry was still in an elated state.

With a few more thrusts Fenrir finally reached his high and emptied his load into the warm hole. Then, quite abruptly there was this feeling, this euphoric feeling as though everything – every weight, every heavy thought – was being exorcised from his body. The new moon, although outside of the cave, seemed to touch Fenrir with its sight. Unable to control the movement of his body, he pulled out of Harry – earning a sharp gasp of shock from the boy – and arched his back due to the delicate tingling that had started up in his body. It made him feel powerful, it made him feel refreshed, and it made him feel... happy. Closing his eyes, he realised that he was ready; he was about to change into a true, mated werewolf and he would finally be able to experience the power and strength without the need to feast on human flesh.

With his eyes closed, he blocked out everything, including the small pants that were coming out of Harry's mouth. He focused on the power he felt at the back of his mind and tried to bring it forward. It slowly started creeping to the forefront of his brain and, almost automatically he felt his body shift. This change, however, was most unlike his previous ones where they had been long, excruciating and forceful. This time he could feel soft furs sprouting out of his skin, and his body shifted easily and smoothly. In no less than five seconds he was in a full wolf form on all fours. He looked at his silky, silver fur before barking happily, realising these were still his human thoughts.

"Fenrir?" came a soft voice, though with Fenrir's newly adapted hearing it was a lot clearer.

He turned his head so he was face to face with his mate. At the sight of the sated boy, who was still on his back, his legs apart with Fenrir's semen – as well as a little bit of blood – dripping from his hole, Fenrir padded over to him and began to lick him clean.

Harry didn't know what to do as he had watched the transformation; it had been almost magical to behold. He could tell Fenrir wasn't in pain during the change as his movements hadn't been jerky, nor had Fenrir arched his back in agony as his bones had contorted into different positions. Once Fenrir was completely transformed Harry found his eyes were glued to the striking image before him; a large, muscular hoary wolf was now sitting back on his haunches, eyeing Harry through extraordinary amber eyes. Vaguely Harry realised the wolf was now moving towards him, his huge paws making no sound against the stone floor.

When Fenrir was close enough to Harry, his tongue poked out and – Harry squealed in embarrassment and shock – began to lick him clean _down there. _It felt different from the first time Fenrir had rimmed him, mainly because this time it was a much longer, not to mention wetter, tongue than Fenrir's human one, which was lapping up and down his cleft, but also because Fenrir was licking him with the intention of healing and cleaning, not just for pleasure.

Harry continued to gasp as Fenrir cleaned him, and let out a deep breath when the wolf moved away. Fenrir then trotted to Harry's side and stared down at him. It was all Harry could do to keep eye contact with the wolf. However, as he stared into those deep amber eyes, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of love, adoration and possessiveness. This beautiful silver animal was _his_ mate. His and his alone. And he wanted to be one with him.

"Fen," Harry whispered, one hand coming up to stroke Fenrir's soft fur around the wolfish face. "Do it now. Please."

He was referring to the bite; he wanted it done now before he began to panic or get hysterical.

The old wolf nodded knowingly before nuzzling Harry's face with his snout. The long tongue came out again and began to lick around Harry's faded bruise on his neck from Fenrir's first claiming. Harry guessed the licking was for the healing after the bite so he didn't squirm away. Then suddenly the warm tongue was gone and Harry closed his eyes tightly and braced himself, knowing what would come next.

Fenrir let out a deep gust of breath over Harry's neck and he saw the slight boy tremble beneath him. He knew he shouldn't prolong this bite any longer in case the boy decided to bolt, so, without further ado, he opened his mouth wide and placed his teeth over the pale, sweating neck before sinking his teeth into the soft skin.

Harry screamed. He screamed, he writhed, he howled, and he cried. And Fenrir could only continue his assault, knowing that if he stopped now the bite would be futile. He wanted to whisper comforting words into his little pup's ear, but he couldn't. The only thing he could do at the moment was to cause his mate this pain, with the purpose to give them a closer bond. He tried to speed the bite up by sinking his teeth in further and letting the blood gush into his mouth, wanting to put the agony to an end for Harry. Soon enough he could feel the coppery taste wash down his throat as well as the numbing feeling in his teeth as he changed the boy. By now Harry had stopped moaning and screaming, which put Fenrir at ease. His mate was nearly complete.

After several more long seconds the bite was complete and Fenrir pulled his teeth out from the flesh of Harry's neck. He licked up the bloodstained neckline, healing and cleaning the boy once again. When he was finished he took a good look at his mate and let out a soft whine of happiness. Harry was his completely now. They were mated for life, which meant they would grow old together. Fenrir wagged his tail happily, then frowned realising he must look like some immature little puppy. Instead, he prodded Harry's forehead with his muzzle until the jaded green eyes – which were now, remarkably, flecked with amber – opened. Fenrir wondered if his amber ones had a tint of green in them from Harry.

"Am I finished?" panted the boy, interrupting Fenrir's thoughts. He nodded and pushed at Harry's body firmly, indicating for the boy to sit up. That should activate the change.

Harry shakily pushed himself up into a sitting position, immediately feeling nauseas; he held his head and groaned. However, before he could get accustomed to the sickly feeling in his gut, he felt his body change. His joints were positioned into different places, his skin was sprouting black fur, and his senses were becoming clearer and more adapt. And there wasn't an ounce of pain! It wasn't like his body was changing, but more so stripping, like a basilisk sheds its skin. His true from was coming through and it felt wonderful.

After a few more moments of transforming, Harry fell into a crumpled heap on the floor feeling strangely exhausted. He rested his head on his paw and let out whimper. Then a thought occurred to him; he had _paws._ Suddenly feeling a lot more awake he stood up, but forgot about his new form and the fact that he had four legs instead of two. His legs trembled slightly under the new feeling but he managed to stay up. He then craned his head behind him to look back at his new body. His fur was a deep midnight black and his build was very lithe and slight. He frowned slightly as he looked back at Fenrir's impressive form; the silver wolf had broad rippling muscles around the flanks and the shoulders, whereas Harry had more of a subtle set of muscles. However, his confusion didn't last long as he was too eager to try out his new wolf form. He took several hesitant steps forward in case his legs decided to buckle, but once he realised how easy it was to walk he trotted happily around the cave, his tail wagging shamelessly.

Fenrir watched on with wide eyes at his beautiful mate in his new wolf form. His earlier presumption of Harry making a good wolf was true: the boy was the perfect size of a submissive, and his physique was lean and lissom-looking. Fenrir felt his heart swell with pride at how fast Harry was learning to use his legs; he hadn't fallen down once. Then the little black wolf started to get more confident, bounding round in circles round the cave yapping like some newborn puppy. Fenrir took several slow steps towards the erratic pup and, when Harry was close enough, he grabbed him by the scruff of his neck with his teeth. Instantly Harry stopped moving and his body trembled. Fenrir tugged at the fur in his mouth as he took several steps towards the outside of the cave, indicating that Harry should follow him. When he was sure Harry understood, he let go and strolled out of the cave into the cool evening.

Harry bounded behind the retreating wolf, following his mate outside. There was a slight breeze which ruffled Harry's fur and he shivered happily. It felt so good to be in this form! He'd never felt more powerful, nor had he ever felt this content before. And it was all thanks to Fenrir; without him he wouldn't have known this freedom existed.


	13. Hogsmeade

**Wow. So it's been a while, and I'm sorry for that. I shan't bore you with the details or excuses concerning my lateness, but I'd just like to thank Dark God Naruto for motivating me and reminding me where my loyalties lie! (Heh, flashback from Philosophers Stone)**

**Anyway, enjoy! Please .**

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Hogsmeade

"_Shut up and be still," growled a low, dangerous voice. "Otherwise I'll be forced to tear you apart with my teeth too." _

_A black haired boy was lying on the ground, groaning and whimpering, his lithe body predominantly covered by that of a large, hairy man._

"_Please, I c-can't... take any m-more," said the boy in a broken voice._

_The muscular man sat up and pulled the fragile-looking boy up by his hair, putting strain on the slender neck. "You will take it, else I'll make it so you can't move for a week."_

_The hairy man shoved the boy back down again before leaning over him and continuing his prior actions. His hips started thrusting against the slight body, the intensity and force of the thrusts jerked the pleading boy forward an inch or so on every drive._

"_Mmm, you feel so good," murmured the brutish man. "So tight and hot for me, hmm?"_

"_N-no, it hur- hurts... please stop, Fen–" But the dark haired boy was cut off by his own bloodcurdling scream which was torn from his throat, piercing the eardrums_ _of the dreamer._

Remus' eyes snapped open and he gasped for air. Instantly he sat up in bed, his forehead drenched with sweat and his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"Oh, God," he whispered shakily. "Harry, I'm so sorry."

His deep brown eyes filled with tears and he let the sobs wrack his unhealthily thin frame. What a horrific dream! And it had felt so real... _too _real. He could only pray to the moon that it hadn't been a vision of how Fenrir had treated Harry... But what if it had? What if that beast had torn Harry apart and now Harry was lying on some cold, hard floor, bleeding, forcing out whispered help me's to no one?

Remus pushed his shaggy, grey-flecked hair out of his face as he tried to rid the image in his head, and got out of bed. He needed to come up with a rescue mission to get Harry back, and fast. He knew Minerva and Alastor would tell him it was unwise and foolish, but who were they to deny Harry the liberation he deserved? Maybe Remus would just have to make up a little white lie to convince the professors that going after Harry was the right thing to do. Otherwise they would never know if the poor boy was still alive.

*FGHP*

Harry bounded through the trees, his tail wagging frenziedly as Fenrir strolled along at his own pace. Fenrir was unsure what to do or where to go with his new hyperactive mate; should he try and teach Harry how to hunt in wolf form? Or show him around the forest? Or, maybe, venture out of the forest where they could 'play' with some Muggle humans... _Somehow I don't think the boy would like that,_ Fenrir thought, his eyes focused on his mate who was weaving in and out of trees and shrubs. He decided he should call the pup back before he got too far ahead so he barked loudly; its sound was a threatening, domineering and raucous one that demanded his mate's attention.

When he heard the growl, Harry instantly froze and peered over his shoulder to face his mate. Fenrir was slowly padding towards him so he stayed where he was. Finally the old, silver wolf reached him and butted his nose against Harry's. An impatient huff as well as a hot gust of air from the nostrils blew over Harry's face and he whined softly at the intimate gesture.

Fenrir realised he should probably change back in order to ask Harry a few questions, so he attempted to push back the wolfish powers which were at the forefront of his mind, and bring forward his human strengths. Harry watched on, rather confused as the silver wolf squinted with concentration. Finally, Fenrir felt his body beginning to morph back into that of a human physique and, once again, he marvelled at how smooth and easy this transformation was compared to the unmated, full moon wolf transformation he used to suffer at.

Once he was completely human he stretched, his arms going above his head – not caring that this was exposing his nakedness even more evidently – and shook his unshorn hair out of his face. He then looked down at the little black wolf who was staring up at him with bright green eyes.

"Change back, pup," Fenrir grumbled, but Harry merely cocked his head to the side and continued to stare at him adoringly. He sighed and knelt down so he was face to face with his mate. "Change back, Harry, I want to talk to you about where we should go."

Harry – still in wolf form – shook his head cheekily and, with a rather timid look on his face, licked Fenrir's cheek with his long slobbery tongue.

Fenrir, although touched at the gesture, growled and bared his human teeth. Even though the man was in human form, Harry still found Fenrir terrifying when he displayed such displays of dominance and power. Wasting no time, Harry attempted to change back, before realising he didn't know how.

Fenrir seemed to have understood this after seeing Harry's wolf features scrunch up in confusion and concentration. For Fenrir, the knowledge of how to change back and forth into a werewolf came with the package of being one for many years. For Harry, however, he had only become a werewolf because he had been a werewolf's mate so he was still naive in the areas of lycanthropy. Fenrir sighed, realising he was going to have to talk Harry through his change back into a human.

"Listen hear, cub," he said. "I take it you're pretty clueless at how to transform back. Either that or you're one heck of a stubborn pup. Anyhow, I'm going to talk you through your change, got it?"

Harry nodded his head obediently and waited for the man to continue.

"Right, let's see here... I need you to focus on the smaller, weaker human strength in the back of your mind. Can you feel it?" Fenrir asked gruffly as Harry closed his eyes tightly. "It'll be hard to find but once you've located it, keep hold of it," he advised. "Secondly, the strength you feel at the front of your mind, that's your newly adapted werewolf powers, for example your agility, the knowledge of how to hunt, blah blah blah. Push that back, ignore it and bring forwards your human strength."

Harry obeyed, trying with all his might to do as told. After several long seconds of hardcore concentration, Harry finally started to feel his body morphing. In just under ten seconds he was human again, butt naked, mind you, but human. Instantly he felt his cheeks blushing at his exposure. However, his thoughts suddenly went to his eyesight: surely if he wasn't wearing clothes, he couldn't be wearing glasses, so why was his vision clear? He raised a hand to feel for the cool, metal, circular frames that, for most of his life, had lived on his nose. He gasped when he realised they weren't there; his vision was perfectly clear and he wasn't even wearing his glasses!

"Fenrir, I can see!" he said giddily. The man stared at Harry blankly so Harry elaborated. "I mean I can see and I'm not wearing my glasses."

Fenrir's eyes narrowed and he took a step towards Harry.

"Hmm... You obviously didn't change completely, cub. Your eyesight is still that of a werewolf's," he said wisely, cupping Harry's chin and tilting his head up so he could get a good look at the boy's eyes. He turned the boy's face left and right, examining the brilliant, green, amber-flecked eyes. They would have looked reasonably normal were it not for the absence of the sclera and the slit, black pupils. "Yep," the man confirmed, "you're all transformed apart from the eyes. You still have your wolf eyes, silly pup."

Harry shrugged apathetically, feeling quite happy regardless. "I guess that's lucky, otherwise I'd be half blind seeing as I haven't got a clue what happened to my glasses."

Fenrir grunted his agreement, not mentioning how stunning Harry looked with the eyes of a wolf while in his human body. "Anyway, I was wondering where I should take you to try out your wolf body. Was there anywhere you wanted to explore tomorrow?"

Harry thought hard for a few seconds before a location popped into his head. "Well, yes, there is..." He'd been thinking about his life back at Hogwarts. Did people miss him? Did they know what had happened to him? What stories were out there if his disappearance hadn't gone unnoticed? He'd realised that Hogsmeade would be his best bet to find answers; he could take a leaf out of Sirius's book and pick out old Daily Prophets from the bins, or listen in on gossip. Besides, he and Fenrir would be unrecognisable down there; a lot of stray animals visited the little village so an addition of two wolves shouldn't arouse too much suspicion. However the fact that Hogsmeade was a human, wizarding village, he was unsure what Fenrir's reaction would be to the idea.

"Well? Where?" Fenrir asked impatiently.

"Um, well... I was thinking about... Hogsmeade?" he suggested timidly.

Fenrir narrowed his eyes. Why on _earth_ would his pup want to go there? Maybe the kid did have a thirst for danger and blood after all... maybe Harry wanted to frighten and play with the villagers!

"You want to go back to civilisation?" Fenrir asked hesitantly, trying not to get his hopes up too soon. "Why?"

"I just thought I could find out what's been going on since I left," the boy said quietly.

_Ah_, Fenrir thought sullenly,_ he doesn't want to go for the same reason I do, then._

He cleared his throat. "Nah, you don't need to know. I thought you wanted to escape from all of those manipulative bastards and their lies anyway?"

Harry winced slightly at the venomous tone Fenrir said those last few words in.

"I do, it's just I don't want to lose all my connections to the outside world."

Fenrir thought to himself for a moment, his amber eyes narrowed and piercing. He really didn't want to take Harry back to civilisation in fear of the boy realising how much he missed it and wanting to stay there. Nonetheless, Fenrir wanted to make his little pup happy so he really didn't have much of a choice. Anyway, the mating bond should be stronger than Harry's will to live with humans again, surely?

He rubbed his unshaven chin thoughtfully, thinking about the conditions of taking Harry out.

"Well I suppose we could go... Do you really want to?"

Harry nodded timidly.

Fenrir sighed. "Fine. We'll leave in the morning."

*FGHP*

Harry slept restlessly that night. He wasn't sure if he was excited or nervous to be visiting Hogsmeade again. Would the temptation to return be too great? What kind of news would he hear? Would he see any familiar faces?

Finally after several hours of heavy thoughts, Harry's eyelids began to drop. He cuddled up closer to the warm body next to him and let sleep claim him.

*FGHP*

"Now listen here, pup. I need to lay out the rules of venturing out into the world of wizards," Fenrir barked the next morning. Harry nodded and Fenrir cleared his throat. "Number one, you are to remain in your wolf form at all times. No excuses. Rule number two, if I catch you acting like a common mutt we're leaving. In other words, don't let anyone pet you, understood?" Fenrir had heard tales of mated wolves who had gone soft and he wasn't going to allow that to happen to him or his pup. "Rule three; it will be a quick trip. You get what you need to and we get out of there, got it?" Harry nodded slowly, thinking how trivial these rules were, but he kept his mouth shut. "And finally, four, I think me and you should keep our distance, but I don't want you out of my sight. You know that pathetic little village better than me so I'll allow you to lead when we get there, though I'll be following you in the shadows. I don't want to cause any suspicion on us."

Harry, after cramming all the rules into his head, nodded again. "Sounds reasonable enough to me."

"Good," Fenrir huffed. "If we do get separated or if I lose sight of you I'll howl. You are to answer back until I catch up with you again." Fenrir took a deep breath. "Right, I think that's everything. We might as well transform now. Just do the reverse of what I told you earlier, pup."

Harry beamed and attempted his transformation.

*FGHP*

Harry trotted happily through the little village of Hogsmeade, briefly forgetting about the silver wolf that was lurking in the shadows a few feet back. The old little cottages and shops brought back many memories and he felt his heart ache at the history of this place. He faltered for a few steps as he took in his surroundings before he heard a low growl from somewhere behind him. Instantly he picked up his speed; Fenrir had been clear on the 'no dawdling' rule.

As he wound his way through the shoppers and villagers he kept an eye out for a bin or alleyway where an old newspaper may be lying around. However, his search was cut short when he heard two familiar voices from up ahead.

"– just been sitting here for god knows how long, _reading_."

"It may interest you to know that _some_ people _like_ to read books for fun, Ronald!"

Harry's heart lurched and he took a few steps towards the source of the voices. He rounded a corner and found a bench occupying two teenagers, one with bushy hair, and the other with flaming red hair. The former was reading a hefty-looking book, whilst the latter looked thoroughly bored.

"You are the only person I know who enjoys reading out of school hours," Ron grumbled. "Well, apart from Snape but he's gone. Shame, I bet you two would have gotten along brilliantly if he wasn't a snarky, slimy Slytherin teacher and if he hadn't ki–"

"Don't even mention what that traitor did," Hermione said coldly. There was a long, awkward silence and, just as Hermione was about to go back to her reading, Ron muttered something unintelligible.

"What was that?" Hermione snapped. "You know, mumbling is considered rude in proper etiquette manners."

"I don't give a flying fuck!" Ron exclaimed, standing up and flailing his hands about in the air. "I couldn't care less!"

Harry felt as though he'd gone back in time. It was like being in the middle of one of his best friends' arguments again and he had an overwhelming urge to stand between the two friends.

"Ronald Weasley, please mind your mouth around me," Hermione snapped. "If you're so... _irate_ at my want to read, I suggest you find a new best friend."

"I have plenty of friends I could be with, I don't need –"

"No, Ron. Your only other true friend was Harry, and you pushed him away." Hermione took a deep shaky breath. "_We_ pushed him away."

Ron blinked at his friend; this was the first time they had properly spoken about Harry without it concerning his whereabouts.

"Hermione..."

The fact that Hermione felt guilty for what had happened back at Hogwarts made Harry's heart ache. Almost subconsciously, he padded over to the two teenagers. They instantly ceased their squabbling at the sight of a black wolf heading over to them.

"Oh god," Hermione breathed as she stood stock-still. "Ron, don't move."

"What is it?" Ron turned around slowly and stared at Harry before sneering at him. "It's just a stray dog, 'Mione, relax," he said, though he took his wand out to be sure.

Now that Ron and Hermione had stopped arguing Harry felt a little happier and his tail wagged automatically. At the puppy-like motion, Hermione smiled and looked at him fondly which only increased the speed of Harry's tail wagging.

"Get out of here, mutt," Ron snarled, aiming his wand at Harry's face, and immediately Harry's happiness disintegrated.

He whined softly, the anger in Ron's face reminding him of their last argument back at Hogwarts, and the hurt Harry had felt then came back to him in an instant. Ron looked as though he was about to take another menacing step forward when Hermione stopped him.

"Wait a moment, Ron," she said slowly. "It looks... familiar." She took several hesitant steps forward and stared at Harry intently.

"What, like Siri... I mean, Snuffles?" Ron asked, his wand lowering slightly.

"No... just... I think it's the eyes..."

The calculating look in Hermione's eyes reminded Harry of how perceptive she was and he realised that she would most probably recognise him somehow. His instincts told him to turn around and leave now, but his heart was telling him otherwise. _Do I want her to recognise me? _he thought. _Should I stay for a while to see what would happen if she did recognise me?_

He was about to take a tentative step towards his old friends, when he felt a set of teeth gripping the scruff of his neck and he found himself being dragged back round the corner he had come from and was thrown into an alleyway.

Fenrir growled angrily through his teeth and threw Harry from his grip in ire. The little black wolf hit the brick wall and Fenrir closed in on where his pup was slumped. He'd been separated from Harry for about five minutes due to some annoying first year students who had tried to pet him. Of course, to keep his identity unknown Fenrir couldn't have struck out at them or turned them, for fear of an older witch or wizard recognising him. Finally he had managed to shake the brats off and when he'd caught up with his mate again, he'd found him wagging his tail to his two previous school friends! Not happy with what he'd seen, he let his anger out unintentionally and it was because of that Harry was now shaking violently as he huddled in the corner of the alley looking most frightened. However, upon closer inspection, in the green eyes there was no fear to be seen, but fury and frustration. Fenrir looked down on his mate and noticed that there was a graze on the side of Harry's face from where he had hit the wall. Instantly Fenrir felt a surge of regret for his violent actions. He leant in slowly wanting to heal his pup, but Harry flinched and grunted. Slowly, cautiously and tentatively, Fenrir butted his muzzle against Harry's cheek, hoping Harry would forgive him. The green eyes found Fenrir's amber ones and Fenrir tried to put as much sympathy and apology into his gaze. After a while, Harry relaxed slightly and slowly offered the grazed side of his face to his mate. Fenrir sheepishly licked the wound, hoping Harry would forgive him once they were human too. Out of his peripheral vision he saw Harry wince once or twice which only heightened his guilt. He whined lowly, hoping Harry would understand it meant sorry. When Harry looked up at him and blinked slowly before nuzzling his face into Fenrir's chest, the silver wolf knew he'd been granted some sort of forgiveness, and that was enough for him.

As he waited for Harry's wound to heal, he looked around the dim alley and spotted an old newspaper in a corner. He padded over to it and examined it, making sure it was still readable. Once he had deemed it decipherable enough, he took it in his mouth and indicated to Harry that they should leave now that they had some kind of news. He headed out into the village again; all the while making sure Harry's friends weren't around. Harry followed hot on his tail and together they ran back to their cave, not stopping once.

*FGHP*

Finally they reached Fenrir's territory. Immediately Fenrir threw the old newspaper to the ground and changed back, the movement very effortless and easy now. For Harry, however, it was a bit more of a struggle. Although he could run faster than Fenrir, he did, unfortunately, have shorter legs than the man, so he was panting a lot more than Fenrir. Plus the knock to his head had dizzied his mind more than once on the journey uphill and he found himself wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. Nonetheless, he tried to change back into human form, albeit very tiredly and slowly. When he was in his normal state, he didn't bother hiding his indecency. At the moment he just wanted to sleep and rest his aching head. He found he didn't want to talk to Fenrir either after his outburst of anger back in Hogsmeade, so without a word to the man he made his way back to the cave.

"Where you going, pup?" Fenrir asked gruffly.

"Bed," Harry muttered. "Tired."

Fenrir studied the naked back of his mate and noticed a few grazes on the right side there too, obviously from the brick wall. He swallowed before deciding he should probably apologise. He followed Harry into the cave, keeping reasonably close to the boy. Just as Harry reached his bed and was about to sit down on it, Fenrir grabbed the slender shoulders before licking up the boy's back.

"What the... Fenrir, get off me!" Harry exclaimed.

"Hold still, would you," he grumbled while trying to lick the moving back.

"No... get your paws off me!" He tossed and pulled away but Fenrir's grip was pretty damn strong. He pulled with all his might and, after a few more violent attempts at freedom, he broke free, only to fall face first onto his bed. Immediately Fenrir crawled over him and began licking up his back again.

"Please, get off," Harry whispered.

"Your back's cut, cub, I'm just healing it."

Harry buried his face in the fur beneath him. "You don't have to."

"Damn it, Harry, yes I do," Fenrir growled. "I hurt you back there."

Before Fenrir could press his tongue to Harry's back once more, Harry squirmed so he could lie on his back to face his mate. Instantly Fenrir's breath hitched. It was only now that he had seen Harry's human face properly since the incident in Hogsmeade. On a light note, Harry still had his stunning wolf eyes; clearly the art of transformation wasn't as easy as Fenrir made it out to be. However, what had made Fenrir's breath catch in the back of his throat was that the injury from that incident was still there on Harry's face. Thankfully it wasn't bleeding or torn, but where the graze had been there was quite an impressive purple bruise.

Clearly his surprise must have shown in his eyes for Harry put a hand to his cheek which was where Fenrir's gaze was, and asked, "What is it?"

Fenrir just stared at Harry's face, bringing up his own hand to caress the bruise he had inflicted. His larger hand crept under Harry's slender one and he rubbed light circles on the bruised area with his thumb. Fenrir didn't know what to do. He'd only ever healed bloody wounds, not under the skin ones. In a flash he stood up, his eyes fiery with anger at himself. What kind of mate was he? Only last night they had mated, and the next day he practically strikes his pup!

"I'll be back soon. Get some rest," he said gruffly.

"But Fen–"

"I said get some rest!" he bellowed.

Harry looked at Fenrir, not in fear, but in confusion.

"Fine," he said flatly.

Fenrir stalked out of the cave and immediately changed into wolf form again. He was thankful he could do this now; the escape was wonderful. He ran through the trees, all the while the image of Harry's wolf form staring up at him with trepidation and betrayal in his eyes imprinted in his mind. Then, following that image came the haunting one of Harry's purpled face. Clearly the boy wasn't overly fussed by it, and Fenrir made a mental note to find out why. But for now all he wanted to do was run away from the images in his mind until he could think straight again.

Back in the cave, meanwhile, Harry was trying to sleep, but every now and then he'd lean on his right cheek before hissing in pain. Obviously he had some sort of bruise on his face which was sore to the touch. Sighing in frustration, he sat up and ran a hand through his matted hair; it was even messier than usual. For the first time since living out in the cave, Harry really wished he could take a shower. A proper shower though, one with soap, shampoo and warm water... He smiled contentedly at the thought until he realised what he was wishing for. Could he really be yearning for his old life? His old life, in which the weight of defeating the Dark Lord constantly rested on his shoulders? No, out here he was free... that was what he wanted... But the anger Fenrir had shown, surely that had been out of protectiveness? So in a way, Fenrir was restricting Harry's freedom as much as the prophecy had.

He huffed before flopping back down, hoping to clear his mind of all this stress. He needed to speak with Fenrir as soon as the man got back, but until then Harry vowed to himself that he would attempt to get some sort of sleep. After all, it was what Fenrir had wanted.

*FGHP*

When Fenrir got back nearly two hours later, he transformed out of his wolf body and crept into his cave. His long run had given him time to think and he realised that maybe, _just maybe,_ he had been a little over-protective with his pup in Hogsmeade, dragging him away from his friends like that. His rage had got the better of him though, and once his rage was released it was damn hard to force it back down again. He just hoped Harry would be able to forgive him.

When he reached his sleeping cub he crouched down beside him. The bruise wasn't as purple as before; it was more a dark brown, yellowing colour, but Fenrir took that as a good sign; maybe his lick to Harry's face had helped the bruise to heal faster. He ran a chunky finger over it delicately before moving his hand up to brush Harry's mop of hair off his face, hoping to rouse his sleeping pup. He figured the boy might prefer a gentle kind of wakeup after everything had had happened.

After his fifth stroke of Harry's hair, the dark eyelashes began to flutter and green eyes flecked with amber were revealed.

"Hey, pup," Fenrir grunted, his hand still entwined with the dark locks.

Groggily, Harry heaved himself up, knocking Fenrir's hand away in doing so. "How long were you gone?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"Dunno," Fenrir said unhelpfully. "Time escapes me sometimes."

Harry stretched and yawned, then winced when he felt his cheek stretching against the bruise on his face.

Fenrir cursed crudely at the obvious discomfort his mate had just gone through.

"What?" Harry asked as he hugged his knees to his chest.

"I just... that thing on your face... it's my fault," Fenrir grumbled bitterly.

Harry sighed and shook his head. "Don't be stupid, it's mine. I did something you told me not to."

"You're saying you deserved what I did to you?" the man challenged quietly.

Harry chuckled unconvincingly. "Maybe not everything, but still..."

Fenrir studied his little mate for a few moments. "You know, I may be a ferocious killer and traumatise wizards whenever I get the chance," he started cynically, "but now you're in my life I seem to have developed some kind of conscience. I know what I did was wrong so don't try and tell me otherwise."

Harry chewed on his the inside of cheek absentmindedly before reaching the decision that he should tell Fenrir what had been bothering him since Hogsmeade.

"Fen, I need you to understand..." He paused, trying to find the right words. Fenrir didn't hurry him, but crawled into the makeshift bed with him and wrapped a thick, muscled arm around Harry's exposed waist. Finally Harry found the right words and spoke up again. "You need to understand that the main reason I'm with you is because I thought it would mean freedom. When you dragged me away from Ron and Hermione... it reminded me of..."

Here he paused again, this time thinking back on all the memories where he had had to save someone... and frowned angrily.

"Well it reminded me of all these stupid times where I was forced to do something I didn't want to do, where I had to put my neck on the line."

Fenrir furrowed his brow. "What do you mean, pup?"

Now the opportunity had arisen, Harry found he wanted to vent everything he had been through. So he did.

"First year, it was up to _me_ to stop Voldemort from obtaining the Philosophers Stone. Second year it was _me_ who had to save Ginny from the basilisk. Third year it was _me_ who was being followed around by Aurors, and it was up to me who had to save the man who everyone thought was out to kill me! Fourth year... don't even get me started on that year," he growled bitterly. "And last year... well you were broken out of Azkaban last year so you probably know all about what happened."

Harry finished his rant and was breathing rather heavily. Fenrir was speechless, to put it mildly. He knew Harry was the supposed Chosen One, but he never knew Harry had put that role into action.

At Fenrir's silence, Harry said, "So you understand why I want freedom. I don't mind listening to you or doing what you say, but..." He trailed off and lowered his eyes before chewing on his thumb nervously; he felt strangely hungry.

"I understand," Fenrir said quietly. "I don't want to have you taken away from me, is all. You need to realise how much... protectiveness I feel for you. You're my mate." He batted Harry's hand away from the boy's mouth. "And stop eating your thumb. If you're hungry we'll going hunting."

Harry smiled, feeling a rush of adoration to the man, and nodded. "Thank you, Fen." He sat up on his knees and wrapped his arms around the man's neck.

"No problem," Fenrir muttered. The fact that Harry willingly touched him like this brightened Fenrir's spirits. He growled lowly and placed his hands on either side of Harry's slim waist, before using his thumbs to rub soft circles on the boy's hipbones.

He felt rather than heard Harry's hitch, and he grinned devilishly. He and Harry could make this work. He just knew it.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! My biggest thanks to my beta, Izzy. You da bomb!**

**x**


	14. Missing

**Chapter 14 is here. I've had it written for a while but I haven't had any internet to send it off to be beta'd. But now it is done :) There are some very naughty lemons in this chapter; I thought a bit of smut was needed to lighten the mood from the last chapter. **

**Again, sorry for the wait. I've had a shitty christmas and all this university stuff is taking up so much of my time that it's hard to fit all my favourite hobbies (writing, vidding, music, reading etc) around that.**

**I hope you enjoy this. Big big thanks to Izzy for her thorough yet speedy beta-ing :) **

**xf**

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* * *

**

Missing

The rest of the day was rather blissful, in Harry's opinion. It was delightfully hot outside and it felt good to just stretch out on the soft, warm grass, basking in the sun's rays. He'd flicked through the old Daily Prophet Fenrir had stolen from Hogsmeade and was surprised, although somewhat relieved, that there was nothing about him being a werewolf. There was, however, the word 'missing' on the front page in large block capitals, with a photo of him beneath it, as well as a short paragraph to the left of the photo, which read:

_Harry James Potter, a.k.a. the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the saviour for the Wizarding_ _world, is believed to have been held captive by none other than Fenrir Greyback, the ferocious, merciless werewolf, well renowned for playing with his prey before brutally devouring it. There are those who still hope our saviour is still alive as many believe the werewolf would not want to destroy such a trophy. We urge anyone and everyone to keep a lookout for the boy, not only for his safety, but for ours too._

He'd felt slightly sickened at the wording in the paragraph, particularly how they brought up Fenrir's less than pleasant history. Nonetheless, as annoyed as Harry was by their exploitation of Fenrir's temperament, as well as how they made Harry sound like a lost prize, he found he still kind of missed the Wizarding world, primarily, if not purely, Hogwarts. He'd realised recently how much he had relied upon civilisation in his life, and now to be without it was just... well, it took some getting used to. Not that he didn't like living out here in the forest; quite the contrary, he found it to be invigorating and refreshing... but he did miss his old dorm at Hogwarts, and the hot water for bathing, and the exquisite food the Great Hall had to offer. Despite that, he found that, while lying sprawled out on the grass, he could ignore the galling words and focus on how warm the sun was and how content he was at this moment in time.

He yelped and sat up straight when he felt a hand stroke over his navel. Being naked somehow heightened his senses around his abdomen.

"Hush, pup, it's just me," Fenrir purred.

Harry let out a shaky breath and relaxed. However, the man's hand had now travelled to his left hipbone and was drawing light swirls with the tip of his finger; the barely-there touches Fenrir was inflicting on him made him feel dizzy.

"What are you doing?" Harry muttered, his eyes focusing on the probing hand.

"You looked so delicious, spread out like that on the grass," Fenrir replied.

Harry flushed and batted his hand away. "I was just sunbathing, Fen."

"Mmm, but you look so appetising. Besides, I don't want you out here too long; I like your skin pale and milky, so no tanning. Your skin's so pretty in the moonlight."

Suddenly Fenrir hoisted Harry up so he was straddling Fenrir's lap, their faces almost nose-to-nose. The man ran a coarse hand down Harry's spine, stroking over the bumpy vertebrates until he reached the small of his mate's back. At the touch, Harry started; it only just occurred to him now that his exposed genitals were resting on Fenrir's torso as he was embraced in the man's arms. He made to pull away, feeling rather embarrassed, but Fenrir kept a strong hold on him.

"Why so tense all of a sudden, mon petite?" he asked gruffly at Harry's attempt to get away.

Harry shifted slightly, trying to ignore how good Fenrir's heated body felt against his cock.

"I...uh... heh, it's... um..." He racked his brains, trying to come up with an excuse that would justify his uneasy attitude, as he didn't really feel like pointing out that his balls were resting on the man. "I want a shower," he blurted.

Fenrir stared bemusedly at the boy in his arms. "What?" he asked. Harry looked just as confused as Fenrir felt. "You... want a shower?"

Harry worried his lip before nodding jerkily. He didn't know why the close contact with Fenrir frightened him so much; he'd been enjoying the man's body heat as well as the feeling of being wrapped in strong arms, but he was too uncertain to let anything else happen. So he'd changed the subject, and quite successfully at that, if Fenrir's next sentence was anything to go by.

"I can take you to the lake again, cub, that's no probl–"

"No, it's not just that." Deciding he might as well let out some of his thoughts and feelings now, he elaborated. "I meant... I think I miss Hogwarts." Fenrir snarled but Harry continued. "Not... not the people... well partially the people, but I miss hot showers and soap, and the warmth of the common room, and the beds and ... Not that being with you is bad, it's just being brought up with those things and then suddenly not having them... it's strange, and I know you're trying to make up for it but sometimes –"

He was cut off by hard, chapped lips pressing against his mouth. He grunted in confusion as Fenrir messily swiped a tongue over his lower lip before nibbling on it firmly. Soon Harry began to melt into the kiss – or _tasting_ as Fenrir would put it – but before he could fully lose himself, Fenrir had pulled back.

"I don't know how to shut you up sometimes," the man muttered.

Harry swayed slightly, still rather dazed by the ferocious kiss. "Sorry," he breathed.

Fenrir shook his head wearily. He was upset to hear that Harry felt that way, but he just didn't have the strength to let the boy go back, just for a pathetic, little, human shower.

"I know this is all new to you, pup," he said, lifting Harry slightly so the boy was sitting on the floor instead of his lap, "but it's so much better than living with those people back there."

"You say that but I don't understand why you hold such a grudge," Harry said quietly, crossing his legs.

Here Fenrir paused, deliberating on whether or not to tell the boy his reasoning. Finally he thought it would probably be for the best if he did, plus it would enlighten his mate to all the manipulative wizards he'd saved him from. "I don't know how much you know about the late Albus Dumbledore, but he's been know for his manipulations. The first time the Dark Lord held power, the old man was recruiting. He persuaded a number of werewolves to join him and his fight for the greater good. What we didn't know was that his plan for us was to send us out on the bloody battlefield to fight for his cause." Harry flinched, thinking of himself and the prophecy, as well as the inevitable war. "Three out of the twelve of us survived the battle against the Dark Lord's Death Eaters: myself, an old acquaintance of mine called Julien, and, surprisingly, your old teacher, Lupin." Harry's eyebrows practically disappeared into his hair.

"R-Remus? He... he was involved?"

Fenrir nodded, averting his gaze from the intense green eyes in front of him. "He survived mainly because he didn't attack anyone; he just defended himself and his friends. It was then that me and Julien realised we had been played, used, manipulated into doing the old man's bidding, with nothing for us in return. Lupin, however, took comfort in being alive and safe, and welcomed Dumbledore's flattery and lies of protection. Maybe now you can understand why I detest the thought of wizards."

Harry, who was extremely surprised at being told this story from seemingly out of the blue, swallowed thickly. "I... I'm sorry, I never knew... He... Lupin agreed to... Dumbledore really did that?"

Fenrir nodded slowly. "Bastard," he grumbled.

"But... you joined Voldemort! Why would you do that if he killed your kind?"

Fenrir pinched the bridge of his nose; he was beginning to regret going into this story now.

"Because we had no other option. It wasn't safe for us to live on our own, what with the prejudices against our kind; we needed support. There was no way we were going back to Dumbledore, so we were left with only one option. The Dark Lord provided us with fresh meat to keep us alive, he never used magic on us, he never forced us to use magic, and whatever we did for him there was something in return for us."

Harry snorted softly. "You're making Voldemort sound compassionate."

"Maybe he was. More so than Albus Dumbledore anyway."

Harry stared at Fenrir, who was sat on his behind, his legs spread with his body leaning forwards so he could pick at a toenail. Harry thought he looked like an overgrown, hairy toddler. Or maybe a big, cuddly teddy bear.

"Where is he?" Harry asked stiffly. "Voldemort. What's he doing now? Why aren't you with him?"

Fenrir continued to pick at his toenail, ignorant of Harry's disdainful glances. "I dunno. He hasn't contacted me or called me. I haven't seen him since I scented you."

Harry's breath quickened. "Why? Aren't you loyal to him? What would happen if he found out about ...me?"

Fenrir shook his head in exasperation. "You ask too many questions, cub. Questions I don't know the answers to." He stopped picking his toe and leant back, putting his weight on his palms. "I am loyal to him, just not as loyal as his Death Eaters. I've left him for longer than this before so he shouldn't fret. You see, we have this arrangement; he doesn't control me and my life, and I remain loyal to him when needed."

"How does he call you?" Harry asked suddenly, his gaze flickering to Fenrir's bare left arm. "You don't have a Dark Mark."

"Of course I don't!" he exclaimed. "You think I'd let myself be branded like that? Nah, he found another way to call me. Him, being one of those lajellythings –"

"Legilimens?" Harry offered, and Fenrir nodded.

"That's the one. Him being one of those, he devised this way to call me through my mind. I get this low hissing noise in my head and it's like I open a door to him if I want him to talk to me. Then, if I allow him in, he can tell me what he wants."

Harry's eyes widened. He hated to admit it but he was impressed; Voldemort was, by the sounds of things, a smart, cunning, and indulgent man.

"Oh," was all Harry could muster. His mind was whirring from all this news. It was only after some heavy thoughts that panic suddenly hit him. "Wait, wait... you're still loyal to Voldemort... and he... you're with me... the Daily Prophet..."

Fenrir raised a thick eyebrow. "Out with it, pup."

Harry scrambled to his feet, ran back to the cave, retrieved the newspaper from the entrance and hurried back to sit back down next to Fenrir.

"Read it," he demanded, shoving the old paper beneath Fenrir's nose.

The man growled dangerously, glaring at the newspaper. "You'll have to read for me," he bit out. "I'm not as... _cultured_ as some."

Harry's eyes widened dramatically. "I... sorry," he muttered bashfully. He cleared his throat uneasily and read the summary at the bottom of the page. "_Harry Potter is thought to be living with Fenrir Greyback. If anyone has seen or heard from these persons, please contact the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall. Also, any suspicious activity performed by any type of canine should be reported. We need to save our saviour."_

Fenrir merely stared at the paper before flopping down onto his back.

"Are you not worried?" Harry exclaimed at the man's blasé attitude. "Voldemort might... no, he _will_ read this, and then he'll know you're looking after me!"

"Then I won't go back to him. Simple."

Harry could only gape dumbly at the man. "You can't just... just decide to switch sides like that! He won't let you!"

Fenrir glared at his pup. "What makes you think I've switched sides, boy?"

Harry frowned in confusion. "I... well I thought maybe... if you were no longer with Voldemort you'd be on the light side."

"After everything I told you about them?" Fenrir sat up swiftly and got to his knees. He leant forwards so he was less than inch away from his pup. "I'm on no one's side. I do what's best for me."

Harry swallowed and nodded. He then turned his attention to the paper. "They said... they said they want to save me."

Fenrir let his glare falter for only a split second before cupping his pup's face with a large hand. "They _want_ to save you, or _need _to save you?" Before Harry could respond, Fenrir continued. "Why do you think they need to save you? Do you think they'd give a shit if it wasn't the Chosen One who had gone missing? Hmm?"

Harry could only shake his head stiffly with Fenrir's hand holding his face. "No," he mumbled. The words from the whole article ran through Harry's mind like a tornado, the word 'trophy' echoing more so than the others. Was that how he was viewed? A treasure, a prize, some sort of symbol for the light side? As much as the insignificant wording hurt, he wouldn't read that part out to Fenrir; he didn't want to anger the old wolf more than necessary.

Seeing the hurt in the boy's eyes, Fenrir relaxed his grip a little. He brushed his thumb over a slender cheekbone. "I just want to protect you from what I went through, mon petit."

Harry closed his eyes, breathed in and out deeply before opening his eyes again and nodding. "I know."

FG*HP

Remus ran up the moving staircases, desperate to find McGonagall. He'd come to the conclusion that a little white lie would be the only way he could convince her and Moody, and any other professors come to that, to help him save Harry.

Finally he reached her office, a little wheezy and worn out from running half way across the castle, but determined all the same. He knocked thrice before entering.

"Minerva, I need to discuss something of vital importance with y–" However, he stopped short when he saw that McGonagall was not alone. Sitting opposite her desk were Ron and Hermione.

"Remus?" the headmistress questioned, standing up from her position at the desk. "What's the matter?"

"Wh-what's going on?" he asked warily.

"I was just informing Miss Granger and Mister Weasley about Potter's current predicament." Remus raised an eyebrow, indicating for her to continue. "I'm warning them about the worst case scenario. If Harry is happy with the werewolf then we have no right to take him away from that. I merely told them that, for all we know, we may never see Harry again."

Remus winced at the thought. "Actually, I'm here about that. I... I need to speak with you." When she nodded but made no move to go anywhere confidential, he elaborated. "In private, if you please."

"If it's about Harry we want to know," Hermione said hastily, turning around on her chair. Her cheeks were tearstained. Ron turned around also and nodded in agreement.

"But –"

"As head of their house," Minerva started, "and considering they are the closest people on this earth to Mister Potter, I do believe they have the right to know what we do."

Remus glanced at them all weakly. He rubbed his face before running a hand through his hair. "Okay," he said, resigned. "Fine." He strode up to the desk, pulled up a chair and sat in it, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his face. "I... I had a vision."

This was all part of his white lie. He had come up with the idea while researching further into werewolf mates and their symptoms. According to one of the books he'd studied, the mate of a werewolf can tell when their bonded is in trouble; it was this fact that had inspired Remus' lie. Not to mention, his more than vivid dream of Harry on the floor, bruised and broken, had given him some idea of what to tell them. Plus, if Minerva or Moody ever went to extremes to tell if he was lying and used Occlumency on him, he would have that dream to show them.

"It's... complicated. But you see, due to my – _ahem – _condition, whenever the people I see as family or, more suitably 'pack members', are in danger, I sense it. I get images of them and... it's like a warning."

Hermione – whose hand had been covering her mouth – slowly let it fall to her side. "What are you saying, Professor?" she said hoarsely.

Guilt flooded through Remus' veins but he ignored it; he was doing this for Harry, regardless of the hurt he was causing those around him at the moment. "I mean, Harry is in trouble. He needs us. I saw him and... and it didn't look good."

Hermione choked on a sob and Ron wrapped an arm around her.

"I knew he was in trouble when we saw him," she whispered, but loud enough that Remus heard.

"You... you saw him?" he asked incredulously, wondering why he hadn't been told. "When? How?"

Hermione drew in a great shuddering breath. "In Hogsmeade. Well, we think it was him, but..." She trailed off.

"But he was a wolf. We think," Ron continued. "I mean, thinking about what happened, it does make sense. Besides, the wolf we saw had black fur and green eyes, the same features Harry has. And he didn't attack us, just stared at us and wagged his tail."

"Then... then when he was going to come closer another wolf came, a big silver one, and he grabbed Harry by the scruff and took him away!"

Remus couldn't believe his ears. The scenario the two students had just explained to him made a lot of sense; if Harry had seen his two friends and was going to go over to communicate with them then of course Greyback would not allow it. Remus was sure their assumption was right, for he could vividly remember what Fenrir's wolf form looked like from the day he was bitten.

"Did you see what colour eyes the silver wolf had?" Remus asked quietly.

Ron said, "No," at the same time Hermione said, "Yes." Ron gave his friend a questioning look and was about to ask her how she had seen, but thought better of it; Hermione had always been the more perceptive one out of the trio.

"They were yellow, golden almost," she murmured, her brows furrowed as she recalled the event.

"That sounds like him." Remus sighed. "It was most probably Greyback and Harry you saw. I find all of this to be far too coincidental for it to have been two different wolves."

Hermione looked Remus straight in the eye. "Professor Lupin, Greyback looked so... _livid. _Do you think he... hurt Harry?"

Remus shrugged weakly. Then, realising he had to come up with some persuasive argument to get his Harry back, he nodded and said, "I wouldn't be surprised if he had. Fenrir Greyback isn't known for having a calm disposition, by all means."

There was a silence before Ron spoke up.

"What did you see, y'know, in your vision?"

Remus grimaced, not wanting to go into too much detail. He swallowed thickly and explained. "I saw our Harry. He was on the floor, bleeding. Fenrir was... well, it seemed I got a detailed insight to how their mating went. It also looked as though he had been beaten somewhat."

Ron paled, Minerva's lips pressed into a thinner line than they had been in just a second prior, whilst Hermione swayed haphazardly on her chair in a spell of dizziness. Remus ignored the guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had to get this lie out there to get Harry back to them. "After hearing your story, Ron and Hermione, I now know why Harry was in the state that he was; clearly Greyback was driven mad by jealousy. Jealousy growing from the happiness Harry felt when he saw you two."

There was another long silence in which Hermione and Ron shared a knowing glance; Remus vaguely wondered if the two teenagers were telepathic. They gave a curt nod to the other before turning back to look at Remus.

"We want to get him back," Hermione said firmly. "What do we need to do?"

FG*HP

Fenrir yawned and stretched before standing up, tipping his cub off his body in doing so. "Wolf form, now. I want to show you something."

Glad for the distraction from his intense thoughts, Harry stumbled to his feet where he transformed along with Fenrir. The silver wolf hurried out of the cave and, once he'd reached the forest, increased his pace, running and weaving through the trees. Harry followed close behind, marvelling at how easy it was to control his agility. Trees and shrubs rushed past his gaze in green blurs, while the soil beneath his paws seemed to act as a trampoline, giving him a bounce to his stride.

In what felt like no time, Fenrir began to slow down as the trees started thinning, and Harry saw a clearing up ahead. Fenrir changed back first, and Harry followed suit, once again forgetting about their nudity.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, stepping to Fenrir's side. Vaguely Harry could hear a trickling sound and he turned to the man who was staring at him, a knowing look in his amber eyes.

"Just follow me," he murmured.

He stalked across the earth and made his way to the clearing. When both he and Harry had reached it, Harry couldn't hold in his gasp; the sight that met his eyes was like nothing he had ever seen before. In front of him was a wide sparkling lake with a waterfall pouring its contents into the bright blue, rippling water. The cliff the waterfall fell from was about forty feet high, and it was adorned with ivy and other various plants.

"This is..." Harry trailed off, unsuccessfully finding words to describe the beauty before him.

"You said you wanted a shower?" Fenrir asked, a hint of light-hearted derision to his tone.

"I did, but this... I wasn't expecting this." Harry shuffled forwards, wanting nothing more than to cool off in the sparkling water from the hot summer air. "I've never seen anything like it!"

"Course you haven't, seeing as you've been living with humans all your life." Fenrir sniffed haughtily and Harry had to hold in a snigger; the aristocratic look really didn't suit the old werewolf. "Go on then, don't just stand there. You said you wanted a shower, now go and have one!"

Harry started slightly and looked up at Fenrir, who was looking at him expectantly. "Aren't you joining me?"

Fenrir sneered. "Bathing and showers aren't my thing, pup. I helped you out last time because it was your first wash in the wild. Now you know what to do, so off you go!"

Harry frowned, feeling a little anxious about having to wash while Fenrir merely observed. "Okay..." he mumbled. He turned to the lake and made his way over to the edge. Once there he sat on the bank and dipped his legs into the water. Miraculously enough it wasn't all that cold, unlike the first bath he had experienced with Fenrir which had been in a cold, grubby, old pond. So, wanting nothing more than to wash the grime out of his hair and off his body, he pushed himself into the water, finding he was able to stand comfortably with his neck just out of the rippling water. The sparkling, trickling waterfall caught his attention once again and he waded towards it, intending to use the cascading water as a shower jet.

Fenrir watched his little mate make his way over to the waterfall and felt an indescribable surge of lust cloud his mind. Maybe it was the way Harry's bright, white skin seemed to look translucent beneath the clear water, or possibly the way water droplets that had dripped down his pale body made his skin glisten in the evening sun. As Harry attempted to push himself out of the water on the other side of the lake so he could stand under the falls of water, Fenrir had to hold in his groan of approval; Harry's pert little ass was stuck up in the air as the boy scrambled to get up on the surface. The boy hitched a leg up onto the ledge while the other remained footed on the underwater ground and, in doing so, parted his ass cheeks. At this Fenrir growled wolfishly and his cock twitched at the position Harry was in. However, seeing how his little mate was struggling to get out, but also so he could ravage the boy behind the curtain of water, Fenrir took a run up and leaped into the water, ignoring the subtle pain in his feet as he hit the bottom of the shallow depths. He waded over to Harry, who had turned around to see what had caused the splash.

"I thought you weren't joining me?" Harry remarked as Fenrir finally caught up with him.

"Looked like you were having trouble getting up onto the ledge," Fenrir muttered, stepping close to his pup and invading his personal space. "Need a boost?"

Harry scowled. "I was almost up. Another few seconds and I would have had enough leverage."

"Really?" Fenrir leered. "Because I was staring at your ass for so long, mon petit, I'd begun to wonder if you were just teasing me with your own _full moon_." Harry looked mortified and Fenrir grinned wickedly. "C'mon, I'll give you a lift. Turn around."

The boy obeyed, though very warily, obviously nervous about having his back turned to the man. Fenrir placed his hands over the narrow hips and hoisted Harry up and out of the water as though he were a five year old. As soon as he was out of the water enough to push himself up, Harry scrambled onto the surface. He squealed and whipped round as he felt a sharp nip on his left ass cheek.

"Did you just... did you just bite me?" he spluttered.

Fenrir shrugged. He really couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried; Harry's ass had been right in front of his face, and those firm cheeks looked so ripe and just... _biteable_. Instead of answering his mate's question, he hoisted himself out of the water with ease and hopped to his feet deftly. Ignoring the blushing boy on the floor, Fenrir made his way into the cavern behind the waterfall and waited for Harry to join him. Not a moment later the boy was shuffling into the cave, his cheeks still a delicious crimson colour. However, upon seeing the dim light and the water's light reflected on the walls, Harry seemed to forget his embarrassment and he took in his surroundings in awe.

"Now see, isn't this better than showering in some lousy old bathroom?" Fenrir said smugly.

Mutely, Harry nodded his head slowly and took a few hesitant steps towards the cascading water. He stretched his arm out and ran his hand under the vertical stream. It felt so cool and refreshing on this hot summer evening and, without hesitation, he stepped under it and let the falls gush over his body.

Fenrir let out a dog-like pant at the sensual display before him. The pale, lithe, naked form of Harry under the sparkling globules of water was just too erotic for Fenrir to just stand there and do nothing. So really, he couldn't be blamed for strutting up to his pup and joining him under the water, nor could he be blamed for wrapping his arms around the boy's waist and pulling him closer so they were back-to-chest.

Harry stiffened slightly before relaxing into his mate's embrace; Fenrir's arms provided a sense of safety and protection that Harry had never felt before, not even while staying at Hogwarts.

"Mmm, you're such a pretty thing, pup," Fenrir said gruffly, licking, sucking and softly biting up and down Harry's neck and shoulders.

Harry shuddered and subconsciously pressed back into Fenrir's touch, consequently feeling the man's half-hardened cock press in between his butt cheeks. He twitched slightly at the sensation, before – once again – relaxing and letting the positive feelings and emotions overwhelm him.

Fenrir felt his cock convulse as it pressed in-between Harry's crack. He held back a groan and tried to ignore the lust that was steadily clouding his vision. All he could think about was how much he wanted to bury himself inside that tight, warm, little hole that was teasing him mercilessly. To take his mind off these thoughts he focused on the running water, and began to rub his hands over Harry's body, washing away the light dustings of grime from the forest under the boy's armpits, over the flat abdomen, in between the slim thighs... As if by accident, Fenrir brushed against Harry's cock and, feeling rather excited as well as pleased, he felt the tense organ twitch beneath his touch. He peered over Harry's shoulder and saw that the boy was almost as hard as he was.

"Someone's enjoying their shower a little too much," he murmured in Harry's ear.

Harry's breath hitched; he suddenly felt so _damn_ needy and it was taking all of his strength not to give into the urge of aligning the cock that was sliding in between his cheeks up to his hole. But, by Merlin, how he wanted it. He wanted to feel what sex with Fenrir was like without it being called 'mating'. Once again, Harry felt the man's hand sliding down his chest, over his nipples, past his navel, and coming to rest just above his excited member. He swallowed thickly. Here, in this environment, under the sparkling falls with the sun setting outside of this watery cavern, all Harry could think of was how typically romantic this was. Of course, Fenrir wouldn't agree; if Harry voiced his opinion surely the man would scoff. But the feel of Fenrir's large, hairy hand hovering tantalisingly above his cock mixed together with the blissful sensation of the water globules hitting his body was turning him on more than he had thought possible. He licked his lips in an act of nervousness before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth. Slowly and shakily, he reached behind him with a trembling hand and rested it on the side of Fenrir's strong, hard thigh. He wanted to give a sign to the old wolf that he was in the mood for _this_ without having to speak; he didn't trust his voice enough to not sound wobbly or croaky.

Fenrir looked down at the thin fingers caressing his leg and felt a strange sensation in his chest. Was it the tender gesture that caused the ache? No, he had never been one to respond to affection before... but seeing as Harry was his mate that could all change. Realising that if Harry was willingly touching him and not moving away from this position, the boy wouldn't mind going a little further. He took a hold of the smaller hand resting on his thigh and slowly edged it towards his aching cock. Harry hadn't touched him there yet, and Fenrir was curious as to how the boy would respond.

"Fenrir," Harry murmured softly – he doubted the man would have heard him at all, his voice was so whispery. Suddenly he felt his hand connect with something hot and hard and he realised it had to be Fenrir's manhood. He swallowed again and tried to control his breaths; he was nervous, damn it, but he didn't want to be. He wanted to be able to please his mate confidently and as pleasurably as possible.

"Hold it," Fenrir growled in his ear. "Grab it."

Harry's eyelids fluttered as his eyes stared straight ahead of him at the cave wall. Tentatively, he wrapped his fingers around the hard organ and he felt it throb against his sweaty palm.

"Move your hand." Fenrir's voice resonated through his ear drum, giving Harry the shivers.

Hesitantly and slowly at first, Harry began to pump his hand up and down, feeling the man's foreskin move with him. When the man let out a deep growl from within his chest, Harry felt encouraged to do more. He moved his hand further back so he hit the base of Fenrir's cock on his down-stroke, and on the up-stroke he pressed his thumb firmly over the head.

"Mmm, fuck that feels good," Fenrir muttered, arching his neck back and wrapping an arm around Harry's slender torso. His other arm moved further down the boy's body so his hand was now grasping Harry's cock. At the touch, his pup started violently and mindlessly thrust his hips forwards. Fenrir felt his face morph into a feral smirk.

Together, Harry and Fenrir continued to pleasure the other in silence, Fenrir holding in his breaths, pants and moans better than his cub. However, after a few minutes, Fenrir pulled away, not missing Harry's whimper of loss. He took a few steps away from the water and, finding a dry spot on the cave floor, he laid himself down. Harry looked at him, his cheeks flushed with his erection standing tall.

"I want to try something, my pet, come here," Fenrir said huskily, drinking in the boy's debauched appearance.

Harry shimmied over until he was standing next to his mate.

"Sit on top of me, facing away from my face," he ordered quietly.

Feeling rather excited but equally just as nervous, Harry obeyed. He straddled Fenrir's chest and waited for further instruction, all the while eyeing Fenrir's thick, weeping erection.

"Lean down," the man whispered, and at once Harry knew what was to happen.

He didn't mind, but once he bent down, his face would be over the man's cock. He took a deep breath before lowering himself, his hands either side of the man's taut thighs. Seeing Fenrir's glory this close up wasn't scary, as Harry thought it would be, but it just turned him on even more. Without hesitation he licked up the side of the man's cock, his hand holding the base.

"Mmm, you're a quick learner, pup," Fenrir said with a chuckle.

As Harry was licking and sucking, all Fenrir could think of was how delicious the boy's ass was as it rested right in front of his face. He waited for a few more minutes, soaking up the pleasure Harry was giving him, until he couldn't resist any more. He leant forwards, grabbed the cheeks and licked a tongue line up the boy's crack. Instantly Harry shot up and whipped his head round to find Fenrir looking at him with a smirk on his face.

"You don't like it?" he simpered, bringing a scowl to Harry's face.

Determined to show the man he wasn't nervous or frigid he leant back down again and took the head of the man's cock into his mouth. Fenrir groaned and bucked his hips instinctively before resuming his position at Harry's hole. Like their last session, he continued to lap at the boy's ass, bringing delightful little moans and whines to the boy's throat. He pulled back before taking a finger and slowly circling the tight little hole. He teased it for a while, pressing the pad of his finger against the crack, until he decided he couldn't wait. He took his digit into his mouth, lathered it up and pressed it back against Harry's ass. This time, however, he slowly started to push it in.

Harry's body tensed immediately and his prior actions on Fenrir's cock stopped. He panted as he felt Fenrir's chunky finger enter him. He groaned around the organ in his mouth and felt Fenrir buck his hips up at the vibration. The finger inside him prodded and poked, forcing itself deeper. Harry's hips swayed and pushed back in a subconscious gesture of wanting more. So Fenrir obliged. Another finger was added and Harry winced; although he was no longer a virgin, his ass was still not completely accustomed to being full. However, the small amount of pain he felt around his ring of muscle soon vanished when the two fingers thrust forwards callously, hitting the bundle of nerves deep inside his anus.

"Ohhhh..." Harry muttered, his face resting on Fenrir's thigh whilst his hand still had a hold on the man's cock.

"Do you want this, little pup?" Fenrir whispered as he continued to push his fingers in and out of the boy's hole.

Harry's body convulsed as a shiver ran through him. He pushed himself up slightly and peered over his shoulder at Fenrir. "Yes," he breathed.

Fenrir smiled. "Off you get then, lie on the floor and –"

"No," Harry said shortly. He was blushing profusely but he didn't care. He wanted to show Fenrir that he didn't need to be told what to do or how to act. He wanted to be a naturally good mate. "No, I want to try something."

He swivelled round so he was facing the man now, and suddenly Fenrir realised what the boy intended to do. To say he was shocked would be an understatement; never would he have thought the boy would take matters into his own hands and tell Fenrir what to do.

"You be careful, mon petit," he mumbled. "Here, give me your hand."

Harry offered his hand to Fenrir, who took it in his and sucked the digits, one by one into his moist cavern. He then lathered up the palm before saying, "Now lube me up, pup. I won't be ignorant of your needs."

Harry nodded and reached behind him, smothering Fenrir's cock with the man's own saliva. When he'd wiped every spot of moisture of his hands, he shimmied back before crouching over the wet member.

Fenrir watched on uneasily.

"Go easy on yourself, Harry," he muttered.

The boy nodded and, very slowly, sat on Fenrir's aching limb. Harry scrunched his eyes up in pain; _fuck_, it hurt this way. But he didn't stop. He continued to push the man's cock inside himself until, finally, it was fully sheathed inside him. His anus was stinging madly but, behind the throbbing feeling was a hint of pleasure at being so full. He was sure that Fenrir's healing saliva would numb the pain away soon so he merely sat there, waiting for his body to adjust.

"Are you alright, cub?" Fenrir asked, his hands coming to rest on Harry's hips.

Harry nodded and opened his watery eyes. He managed a small smile. "I'm fine. I think... I think I'm ready now."

Fenrir leaned up on his elbows. "We can stop if it hurts."

Harry shook his head violently. "No. No, I don't want to stop." To prove his point, Harry lifted his hips up slightly before sitting back down on Fenrir's cock. The man grunted in pleasure and Harry mewled softly as his prostate was hit.

Soon the pain had practically vanished completely, and Harry felt freer to move. He lifted himself almost all the way off the man's shaft before forcing his body back down. Fenrir began assisting the boy and jerked his hips up and down in time with his mate, revelling in the fact that Harry was taking what pleasure he wanted from this position.

"Mmm... fffuck, Harry..." Fenrir groaned, his head lolling backwards and his eyes glazed over in bliss. "I'd forgotten how... how great you feel."

Harry smiled, glad he could give Fenrir something back. After lifting his body up and plunging back down again, he started rotating his hips, which brought a low, primal growl to the man's throat. Suddenly, Harry felt a weight on the nape his neck and he vaguely realised it was Fenrir's hand, pulling his head down to meet his lips. Fenrir licked and nibbled at his gasping mouth before encouraging Harry's tongue to meet with his. In this new position, Harry found his prostate was more easily accessible and, as he and Fenrir kissed fervently, he also realised his cock was being massaged between their torsos as he began bucking his hips up and down in abandon.

"Hahh..." Harry whined, pressing his forehead to Fenrir's as his body fell limp to the pleasures. For the next number of minutes they stayed like that, face to face, while they continued to make love; not _mate_... but actually have sex out of want, not need. It was at a slow pace and Harry couldn't help but smile; it felt so right.

Fenrir, upon seeing his mate's happy little face, smiled back and ran his hands up and down the supple frame on top of him. However, soon the burning, coiling feeling his lower region lit up and he realised how close to the edge he was. He let go of Harry's head, instead choosing to grab the boy's hip with one hand, whilst his other grabbed the erection in front of him. Harry arched back and, most probably on the edge too, started bouncing harder, wanting to get as much pressure and friction in order to get his release.

"F-F-Fen... I'm going to... So close..."

Fenrir kept his thrusts hard, fast and powerful, wanting nothing more than to mark his little mate again.

Soon their pace had increased tenfold and, before either could comprehend, Harry had released all over the werewolf's chest. Fenrir followed soon after, the feeling of Harry's muscles clenching around his cock almost too much to take. He gave one last thrust and stayed in that position until he had coated the boy's insides with his seed.

"Gods..." he muttered as Harry flopped down on top of him. "That was just... you were so fucking sexy, pup."

Harry – who was breathing rather heavily – hummed his amusement at the man's words. "I liked that," he said quietly.

Fenrir looked down at the nest of Harry's black hair that was resting just beneath his chin. "Me too," he agreed, bringing his arms around to cradle the boy to his chest. For some unknown reason, he had an urge to press his lips to Harry's hair, despite the fact there was little chance of 'tasting' his mate there. He just felt like it was the right thing to do. Plus, Harry might appreciate the – he shuddered – _human _affection.

So he did.

He leaned down and pressed his rough lips to the soft hair, breathing in Harry's unique scent of the forest, fresh water, and a subtle scent of old shampoo the boy must have used for most of his life. They stayed in that position for ages, neither one wanting to move or pull away from the intimate position they were still in, nor caring that the sun was setting on them.


End file.
